


Questions

by DaisyFairy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Experienced John, First Kiss, First Time, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Necrophilia, Insecure Sherlock, John dates a woman, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Meeting the Parents, No Mary, Oral Sex, Overprotective Mycroft, Overwhelmed Sherlock, Pining, Porn Watching, Sexual Slavery mentioned, Sharing a Bed, Sherlock has questions, The Fall Never Happened, They have just been living together solving cases the whole time, This really isn't as bad as the tags make it sound, Virgin Sherlock, Weddings, no Eurus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: Sherlock has never had sex, when he decides that he needs to know more about the subject so that he can be a better detective who else should he ask but John? Once the issue has been raised though things begin to change between them.Ratings and tags may change in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually one of the first things I ever wrote, I do have most of it already written but it does need some editing. Hopefully updates will not take too long.
> 
> I will point out this story is not about asexual Sherlock being "cured". Sherlock is not asexual in this fic, he has his own reasons for still being a virgin that will be revealed in later chapters.

Sherlock is sitting in his armchair waiting for John. The fire is low and the lights in the room dim, it is twilight but Sherlock has only turned on a small lamp. He needs to talk to John about something. Recently it has come to his attention that there is a rather large gap in his knowledge about one particular subject. 

He has tried searching the internet, but the search for “sex” seemed to bring up an unending stream of hits most of which seemed to be rather lacking in facts, and a huge amount of videos and photos that he had decided would be too nauseating to look at. No, he needs information, and John always seems to be involved with some woman or another, coming home having obviously enjoyed more than just dinner, however much he tries to hide the fact. John will be able to give him the information he needs, or at least help him to search through the dross to get to something useful online. 

He is of course familiar with the basic mechanics of the act, but the motives as to why someone would wish to do something so unsanitary elude him. Of course he is not above unsanitary, in the name of science, or a case, he would happily search through a skip or go into the sewers, but not for the seemingly dubious rewards that sex has to offer. To his understanding the level of hormones that were produced during copulation seemed negligible compared to the effects of the drugs that had until a few years ago been a large part of his life, barely worth bothering with to his view.

Sherlock hears the door downstairs open, shaking him from his thoughts, Mrs Hudson offering a cheery “Hello Dear”, and John mumbling something in reply. The footsteps coming up the stairs seem a little weary, but no limp so it obviously hasn’t been too hard of a day at the surgery. Good. Sherlock has a feeling that John would consider this a delicate subject, and he has made it clear that he does not like to discuss those when tired, or when they are suddenly thrust upon him. No, one time when Sherlock had returned home to find John’s girlfriend’s expensive handbag on the floor, making it blatantly obvious that she was still seeing her old boyfriend, John had not been at all pleased when he had gone straight into John’s room to inform him of the fact. John kept going on and on about the time of night, how he had been asleep with his girlfriend, how you don’t go waking up tired people with bad news or delicate subjects; this subject is going to have to be introduced more gradually if he hopes to get anything useful out of John.

John walks into the room to be greeted by the sight of Sherlock sitting in his chair staring at him. This is not particularly unusual, but the strange look on his face is slightly disturbing.

“OK?” John asks with trepidation, sitting in his armchair across from the detective.

“Yes John, I am fine, however I would like to talk to you about something”

John is beginning to get worried, Sherlock would never say that, he would normally just launch straight in to what ever mad conversation he wanted to, probably involving bankers and mud and employment contracts in Japan.

Despite the slightly confused expression on John’s face Sherlock continues “You understand how, although I have excellent knowledge of medical matters, I do sometimes defer to you as something of an expert in this field when the need arises.”

John is now alarmed, this is the nearest to a compliment that Sherlock ever came. “Something’s wrong, he’s trying to be nice to me.” he thinks. He looks around the flat looking for problems. 

Sherlock has stopped talking, noticing that John seems distracted, and narrows his eyes at him. He is trying to have a conversation with the man, what is he doing looking all around the room.

John suddenly shoots out of his chair and goes to the kitchen, having decided that Sherlock has done something disgusting or destructive in the kitchen and is trying to persuade him not to be cross. But when he gets there it all looks normal, true there was the microscope, and various vials of chemicals on the kitchen table, and next to the sink a plastic container of what looked like ears, but nothing exceptional that would require Sherlock to butter him up before he saw it.

Sherlock is becoming concerned now. All he had done was utter one sentence, a rather flattering one at that, and John had suddenly started looking around the room and then darted into the kitchen as if there was something urgent he needed to do. What is he up to?

John starts to think things through, if there is nothing obvious, maybe Sherlock had spilt something, some poison or bacteria in the kitchen that would be dangerous.

“Sherlock, if I touch things in the kitchen, could I die?”

Sherlock wonders what the hell John is blathering about? This makes no sense at all. “Of course you could die John….”

John starts to back out of the kitchen, carefully avoiding touching the door.

“…what does being in the kitchen have to do with anything?”

John is now concerned about the whole flat, what the hell had his flatmate done to contaminate the whole flat? Does he need to call Mycroft to get a biohazard team in here?

“John…….you aren’t under the impression that I could have created something in the kitchen that could cause you to be immortal are you?” Sherlock says carefully, now concerned for John’s mental health. “Because you are aware that although I am a genius that is probably beyond me.”

John breathes a sigh of relief; of course, Sherlock had completely misunderstood the initial question.

“I thought that you had contaminated the kitchen with something dangerous, some bacteria or something” he explains.

“Why would I do that?” Sherlock asks, looking completely perplexed.

John just stands there open mouthed to look at the madman standing in front of him. Eyeballs on the worktop, heads and thumbs in the fridge, and the unnamed wriggling things that had been in the sink last week. These are all normal, apparently, but dangerous bacteria are a step too far. He just shakes his head at Sherlock and whispers “I really don’t know.”

Sherlock looks at John again, he looks shocked and a bit angry, all he had done was give him a lovely compliment about how he knew more about medical things than Sherlock and it is obviously too much. He must be coming down with something, no, today is definitely not the day to have this talk. So he gets out his violin and starts to play, completely ignoring John, who is still standing looking at him like some kind of simpleton. After 5 minutes John makes himself some tea and goes up to bed.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later the pair are on the roof of a building across an alley from the illegal dog fighting club that Sherlock had discovered the day before. 

Lestrade had called asking for help to find a suspect in a stabbing, his bedsit seemed to be abandoned, and Sherlock was asked to have a look at it for clues as to where the man might have gone. After initially resisting, it seemed far too simple a case to be worth bothering with, Lestrade had talked to John, and the two of them had practically bullied Sherlock into going. Anyhow, after a few minutes looking around Sherlock had determined that the suspect, a Mr Andy Graham, was a drug dealer and habitual gambler, who had a penchant for the more salacious thrills of dog fighting. 

It had been short work to deduce the probable location of the club that he frequented, and some local investigation had found the building that hosted the club. This had all led to the stake out to see when the man would enter the club, at which point they were to call Lestrade who would send officers in to carry out the arrest, and close down the club. Hopefully with the added benefit that it was expected that at least half of the denizens of the club would be guilty of something other than animal cruelty and they could clear some more crimes off of the books. Why they had to be the ones doing the stake out Sherlock couldn’t fathom, but John seemed determined to help, saying that Lestrade would owe them a favour that might be useful next time Sherlock was found breaking and entering.

So here they are, sitting on the flat roof, hiding behind a chimney and peering down at the door to the club. John has a camera set up on a tripod aimed at the door and he is taking photos of everyone who goes in, for evidence just in case Andy does not turn up tonight the police could still go after the people who had visited today, and then stake out again tomorrow.

Sherlock was bored,….. BORED “Bored, John”. 

John looks over, Sherlock is reclining against the chimney breast as if he was on the sofa at home, hands steepled in front of him. 

“Sherlock, you know we need to build up some good will with Scotland Yard. Why don’t you take the photos for a while, give you something to do.”

Sherlock grunts, but seems disinclined to move, somehow looking comfortable lying back on the rough felt roof. Then he suddenly looks up at John “Why don’t we have a conversation, that’s what people do on stake outs isn’t it?”

John looks dubious “In my experience it is mostly hiding….” John stops talking to take a few more snaps “being cold and hungry, and being moaned at by bored detectives, but I suppose a conversation could be a nice change.” 

“OK John, I will start. Tell me all about your first sexual experience.”

John had only half been listening, a man who had approach the club looked a lot like Andy Graham, but when he had turned to talk to his companion John could see it was not him. He takes a few photos, then replays in his head what Sherlock had just said.

“What?? Sherlock! Why? Why are you asking me that?”

“I’m curious John.” Sherlock replies, hoping that this sideways approach to getting the information he wants would be more successful than the attempt last week. “I would like you to tell me in detail every sexual encounter that you have ever had. As many details as you can remember.. would… be…..ideal.” He trails off a little at the end as John’s expression has turned to one of shock, perhaps he has overstepped, should have taken it more slowly.

John does not know what to make of this, has never heard Sherlock talk about sex at all unless it was directly relevant to a case, and then only in passing, as if to get the topic out of the way as quickly as possible. Now suddenly he wants in depth details of John’s sex life, something John never does, he isn’t one to kiss and tell. He is trying to formulate a response to this unexpected request, when he spots Andy Graham enter the alley below, this time it’s definitely him. 

John pulls out his phone to call Lestrade, then heads to the far side of the building, Sherlock’s query temporarily forgotten. “Come on Sherlock, Lestrade and the team will be here in a minute and we have to get off this roof. You know he wants you to look at everyone as they come out of the club to deduce what crimes they’ve committed.”

“I am not a sniffer dog.” Sherlock grumbles, as he followed John. His hopes of answers to his question dashed for tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours later they arrive back at the flat. It had taken a long time for everyone in the club to be arrested and put into the police vans, going past Sherlock on their way to custody. He had deduced that most of them were low level criminals, but that if the police cared to look into it they would probably find evidence of burglary or small scale drugs dealing. However a few of those pulled out of the building were worthy of more investigation, it seemed possible that they could be involved in larger scale drug supply, and in one case possibly people trafficking. It seems the Yard will be busy with this lot for days. 

It is now almost 2am, so Sherlock assumes that John will want to have tea then go straight to bed. For himself he plans on continuing his experiment on ear cartilage from the previous week, having picked up a fresh batch from Molly the previous morning. However John, having made two cups of tea, seems to be sitting in his armchair and waiting for Sherlock to join him.

“What was that about earlier?”

Sherlock is confused “Which thing John? An awful lot of things have happened today.”

“You know what I am talking about, on the roof, when you asked me to tell you about myself.”

“Oh, that.” It seems they are having this conversation now. “It just seemed like the kind of thing friends talk about on a stake out.” Sherlock sits in his armchair across from John.

“No, Sherlock, you were angling for something. What do you want? You’ve never been interested before, never asked for details after any of my dates, why the sudden change? You don’t… fancy me… do you? Not that I care, it’s all fine, I mean, if you’re gay, I don’t mind…” 

John just stops, he had started so well, but had somehow descended into a babbling mess by the end, half angry that Sherlock is trying out some experiment on him, but half worried about upsetting his friend if he really is confused about his feelings.

Sherlock looks across the coffee table, picks up his mug and takes a mouthful of tea. This is not going well, he wants hard facts, not confused mumblings. He is going to have to just tell John what he wants, no more prevaricating. 

“John, I have noticed that sometimes in cases I find the motivations of those involved somewhat confusing. That is when matters are related to sex or associated activities. I was just hoping that you could help me to understand it better.”

“Can’t you just think about your own experiences Sherlock, try to extrapolate from there. I know you are not the most experienced with this, but can’t you figure it out with your massive brain.” John tries to stall, he has never liked sharing this kind of information, and wants to try to find a way out of this.

“Well John, I have tried, but my only sexual encounter was with Mycroft when I was 8. It does not seem to be translating into any useful information. Why would anyone want to engage in something so degrading, unsanitary and painful?”

“Your brother!” John’s expression is pure horror. What. The. Hell. He is ready to find Mycroft and, and, he can’t even think of a punishment painful enough for the bastard.

“John, John, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? What’s wrong? You just told me you were raped by your brother when you were 8 years old. What the hell do you think is wrong?” John is shouting he is so angry, then realises that he should not be taking this out on Sherlock. He purposely softens his face and voice. “I’m sorry Sherlock, I shouldn’t be shouting at you, none of this is your fault.” He moves to crouch in front of his friend, being careful not to touch him. “What do you need? We can call Greg, he can handle the investigation. You never need to see Mycroft again.”

“No, no, wrong John. Mycroft didn’t rape me.” Sherlock counters as soon as he can draw breath from the shock of the conclusion that John had come up with. “I saw him masturbating, I went to his room to borrow a book and the door wasn’t on the latch properly, it just swung open a little when I went to knock. It was repulsive, I had always looked up to my brother until then, but he was reduced to an animal, making horrible sounds and his face looked like he was in pain. I vowed that I would never do anything like that, it was so disgusting.”

John starts to chuckle, he can’t help it, the sickened look on Sherlock’s face and the relief that he had been so wrong about Mycroft combine to make his laugh almost unstoppable, escalating and becoming almost hysterical. Sherlock just sits and drinks his tea until John’s outburst subsides into giggling and then stops.

“Well thank you John,” he says coldly “it seems that I was right to never share this with anyone before, I would be grateful if you could refrain from talking about this again to me or anybody else.” Sherlock gets up and starts to walk to his room, clearly hurt that John found his experience so hilarious.

“Stop! Sherlock, come back, I didn’t mean it. I was just so relieved that you hadn’t been attacked. Please, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Sherlock sits back down and looks at John. Unsure what else he is supposed to say, this has turned into a disaster and he would very much like to forget this whole evening had ever happened. John stands from his position on the floor and returns to his chair.

“So, you walked in on Mycroft, he would have been…. 15? Right? What did he do?”

“I didn’t walk in, I saw from the door, and then left.”

“So, does he know you saw him?”

“No. His eyes were closed and I never wanted to talk about it. As I said, it was disgusting.”

John is beginning to feel the same way, now that the relief has worn off and he has started to think about it he is feeling vaguely nauseous. Although masturbating is entirely natural for teenagers, this is Mycroft they are talking about, and John is beginning to have an urge to pour bleach into his brain to clear the images beginning to form in there away.

“So,” he starts again “what did you do when you got older and began having those feeling yourself?”

“I ignored them until they went away, obviously.”

“No, Sherlock, I mean, when you got an erection. That does happen to you, right?”

“As I said I would ignore it until it went away. After a while it stopped happening, by now it only happens, probably about once a year.”

John is a bit shocked, “You’ve never had an orgasm? Never? No masturbating, or with anyone else?”

“No John, this is what I am telling you, pay attention. But you have on many occasions, so your experience can be helpful to me. Please begin telling me about your experiences.” 

“Sherlock, you know I’m a doctor, if you’re having erectile disfunction we can talk about it, I could order some tests…”

“No, John, you are not listening to me. I do not want to have those feelings, I will not allow myself to rut like some kind of animal, I am above all of that. I merely want details of it so that I can understand motivations for solving cases.”

John gives a deep sigh. There is no way out of this situation, he has never really been able to say no to Sherlock, it is going to be a very long night. “Well, the first time I kissed a girl was when I was 12………….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming soon :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So John has told Sherlock about his sexual history, but will that be enough to satisfy Sherlock's curiosity?
> 
> \----~----

The following morning, as the sun is rising, Sherlock is pondering the information that his friend had given him. They had talked until nearly 5am, and John is asleep upstairs. Sherlock however had not gone to bed. The sheer amount of information was overwhelming, and is taking some time to sort through, it had definitely been a good idea to get the whisky out. John had seemed reluctant at first to give any more than basic details, but the more he drank the more he seemed to share, and Sherlock is sure that he would never have been told about the kiss with a male friend at Uni. or the “experience” in Afghanistan with a fellow (male) medical officer called Andy if not for the alcohol lowering John’s inhibitions.

Still, the basic why of it is still confusing to him. It seemed that John believed that the sexual experience felt good and that this is the reason why people want to do it, but how is that possible? Sherlock can not really think of any physical sensation that he had ever felt that would cause him to degrade himself that way. The drugs he had taken, whilst having a physical component, had been mostly about the effects on his mind, direct stimulation of his brain to increase or decrease his mental processes, he finds it hard to believe that anything similar could be achieved simply by touch.

So whilst John’s information is useful in many ways, it is still not enough. Perhaps he should watch people participating in the act to try to deduce how they felt about it, he has previously shied away from video footage, feeling that it would be too disgusting, but he will just have to brave about it. Getting his laptop out he settles at the kitchen table to do some research.

\-------------------------

A few hours later a rather hungover John appears at the kitchen door, grabs a glass from the cupboard which he fills with water, and takes some paracetamol, and then sinks into the chair opposite Sherlock, putting his head down on the table pillowed on his arms. 

“How much did I drink last night?”

“About half a bottle of whisky I think,” replies Sherlock “and a can of beer.”

“No, wait. The whisky bottle is still half full,” John gestures to the bottle sitting on the worktop “and you were drinking too, so I can’t have had that much.”

“Well you did seem happier drinking when you believed that I was also partaking, but John, really, how can you expect me to pay proper attention to you when I am drunk? I just pretended to drink to make you more comfortable.”

“Of course you did.” John sighs. He then realises that whilst they had been talking the laptop on the table between them had been making some rather strange sounds, almost like... “Sherlock! Are you watching porn?”

“Yes John, it really is not helping very much at all.” Sherlock glares at the laptop, as if blaming it personally for failing him in his endeavours. 

“Was what I told you not helpful then?”

“Well, I’m sure there will be instances where it will be very helpful, but it did not give me a full picture. This however” pointing to the computer screen “is not very instructive at all. If a case come up regarding pornography actors or prostitutes it may be, but for the rest of the idiots out there I don’t believe this will help.”

“Why?” John asks, feeling like he would rather return to the safety of his bed where maybe his head would stop spinning so much and he wouldn’t have to have insane conversations with his flatmate.

“Well, a lot of the things that they are doing in these videos, according to the things you told me last night, would be rather uncomfortable or even painful, but they seem to be doing them quite happily. Also when I started trying to deduce them..”

John gently thuds his head on the table a few times before remembering about his massive headache and stopping.

“..it seemed that mostly they weren’t motivated by wanting to feel good, or out of love as you had led me to believe, it seemed to be mostly money that was the reason they were there, or in a few cases exhibitionism. Also there were a few cases of quite obvious sexual slavery, with fear being the main motivating factor.”

“Jesus Sherlock.” John looks shocked.

“I have already texted Lestrade with the details of those videos, I believe that he is passing them on to the relevant department. He seemed very concerned as to why I was watching pornography, so I told him you had been watching and I walked into the room.” Sherlock replies quickly, looking pleased with himself. He had done the right thing by alerting the police, and had thought of a very convincing reason for him to have seen the video without getting into a long and boring discussion with Lestrade, John is bound to be proud of him.

“You told Greg that I was watching porn of women being forced to have sex against their will?” John asks flatly.

Sherlock is a little disappointed not to receive praise for his actions. “Yes, it was much easier than explaining my real reasons, you seemed shocked when I told you about myself and I didn’t want a repeat of that with Lestrade. Oh, he said to remind you that you were meeting him at the pub tonight, said he had to talk you.”

“Great.” John says numbly, dreading his evening out with every fibre of his being.

“John my basic problem remains, why do people want sex? Not just want it, they seem to need it, as we have seen from many crime scenes we have attended, they sometimes go to any lengths to obtain it.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, it feels good. I know you said Mycroft looked like he was in pain but unless he was doing something wrong I’m sure he wasn’t. I don’t know why you can’t believe me about this, I suppose it’s just something you have to experience for yourself. Please try to remember though that the people we see who have been attacked or killed over sex are not typical, for most people it is not enough of a motivator to make them crazy enough to do that kind of thing. I think you’re viewing this with a very skewed perspective.

Now, please turn off the pornography, it is making me feel sick. I am going to go back to bed for a few hours. I suggest you get some sleep, I know you have been up all night.” At that John stands, gets some tea and toast for himself, leaving an extra mug of tea on the table and a plate of toast for Sherlock, and leaves the room.

Sherlock turns off his computer reluctantly, and looks around, none of his experiments need his immediate attention. Perhaps John is right, he has been awake for almost 48 hours so some sleep might help his thought processes, not that he would ever admit that to John. He drinks the tea and nibbles at the toast for a few minutes before heading to his room for a nap.

\------------------

On waking John thinks about his evening out with Greg. He will correct Greg about who had been watching the pornography, he can just say Sherlock was doing research. But then he thinks about how Sherlock seems to have only ever talked to him about the subject of sex and that his friend might be genuinely embarrassed about it, he decides to just take the hit. 

He goes downstairs to get some tea, Sherlock is already at the kitchen table, still conducting his experiment with those ears, God knows why but he seems to be dipping them in acid. 

“Sherlock, I’ll go along with what you said and let Greg believe that I was watching those videos, if you want. Could you show them to me though? So that I know what I am supposed to have seen.”

“Yes, yes. Just look on your phone at the text I sent to Greg, there is the list of three videos on there. I think I am still logged in to the account on the laptop so you can see them.” Sherlock mutters, not looking up from his experiment. Then he turns to John with a large grin across his face and says gleefully “I set up the account in Mycroft’s name and paid for it with his credit card.” 

John can’t help giggling a little at that. He makes his tea, absent mindedly making a second one for Sherlock at the same time and putting it on the table in amongst the beakers and flasks, and heads to his armchair to watch the offending video. He has just watched a few seconds of the first one on the list, not being able to bring himself to watch any more of the abuse. It is not actually obvious at all that the girls were being forced to participate, there were faint signs of bruising on the girl’s wrists from being chained up and the occasional glance over to one side of the camera where the men in charge must have been standing, but not anything that he would have noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it. He doesn’t feel quite so bad about talking to Greg now, he had been worried about explaining why he had been trying to find that sort of thing, but now he realises that he can pass it off as just watching normal porn without realising the truth until Sherlock pointed it out. Feeling slightly better he settles in to read his book for a while before getting ready to go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this so far. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes to the pub and talks to Greg about the videos, meanwhile Sherlock is left home alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, real life has gotten very busy. Hopefully it won't be so long until the next update.

John has arranged to meet at Greg’s local this week and leaves early so that he can walk, hoping the fresh air will clear his head of the lingering effects of last nights heavy drinking. He finds himself slowing unconsciously, nervous and slightly uncomfortable at having to carry on Sherlock’s lie. Normally he looks forward to these evenings out, Sherlock is great but it’s nice to have some sane conversation once in a while. He decides to just mention it first, get it out of the way, and then they can continue with their evening. Decision made he increases his speed so as not to keep Greg waiting.

On arriving at the pub John finds his way through the crowd, there is a match on the TV over the bar and there are a lot of people standing around in groups. He gets two pints at the bar and takes them over to the small table at the back where he has spotted Greg.

“Hi Greg, how’re things?”

“Fine, fine. But John, we need to talk.”

“Look Greg, I know we don’t normally talk about that kind of thing, but have you seen the video? It wasn’t obvious what was being done to those girls, I promise I wasn’t looking to find that.”

“Well no John, I never thought you would be. You’re right, it wasn’t obvious. I really wanted to talk to you about why two of the videos were of gay porn, does this mean things are on with you and Sherlock?” Greg replies, lowering his voice and looking around to make sure no one is listening.

Oh hell, why hadn’t he checked the other two videos? No, can’t do it, Sherlock is just going to have to take responsibility for this.

“Greg, it wasn’t me who watched them, it was Sherlock. I think he was embarrassed and wanted me to cover for him. I didn’t know they were videos of men, he probably didn’t think it was important to tell me.” Babbling now, great.

“Ah, I had my suspicions.”

“He’s doing research into sex, he doesn’t have much experience,” gloss over the details, Sherlock definitely doesn’t want him to share that “and he thought it might be helpful to know more, you know, for cases and that.” 

John seems to have finished his pint without realising, this whole thing is not doing his liver any good, so he stands to go back to the bar. “Another?” He asks, gesturing to the bar. Greg nods in agreement “I’ll get the next round.”

They spend the next two hours watching the rest of the match and chatting about cases, people at the Yard and Molly’s new boyfriend. They have now had 5 or 6 pints each and the conversation is becoming a little slurred.

“So, if he is interested in sex, why don’t you give him a practical demonstration?” Greg suddenly asks, staring at John with a questioning look in his eyes and raising his eyebrows in what he obviously thinks is a suggestive way.

“I AM NOT GAY.” John snaps back “Why the hell does everyone think that we are a couple?” A little too loudly, a few people at the next table look over curiously.

“Well there is the way you look at each other,” Greg replies, completely unfazed by the outburst.

John rolls his eyes, bad decision the room had already been slightly hazy and his stomach rolls threateningly along with his eyes.

“and there was that time I came by and you had both been sleeping in his bedroom.”

“Greg we went through that, the heating was broken, we were sharing body heat.”

“It was May! It was a bit nippy I’ll grant you, but I wouldn’t be sharing a bed with any of my mates unless it was so cold I was in danger of my bits starting to fall off.” Greg counters, waving his finger vaguely in John’s face. “And besides, you have a fireplace in your living room, you could’ve just stayed out there.”

“You came by to get us to fill out paperwork after that kidnapping case. Sherlock hadn’t slept for three days, and I hadn’t had much more, we needed a bed.” John is suddenly feeling a little more sober now he has something to defend.

“Ha, yes, A bed, just one. You so fancy him.” Greg giggles, and then continues to giggle into his pint glass as he drains it.

John glares at him, this had gone far enough. “I. Am. Not. Gay.” He says as clearly as he can, and then completely spoils the effect by hiccupping loudly.

“Some nights I’m not sure if I would share a bed with my own wife even if my bits were in danger of falling off.” Greg mumbles morosely “Just don’t waste your chance mate.”

“Greg, what’s going on with your wife?”

“I’m pretty much in the spare room nowadays, I expect one of us’ll get ‘round to filing for divorce sometime soon.” Greg continues with his mumbling, then brightening slightly says “if you two get together I could have your room and come stay with you.”

John goggled at him “No, you don’t want to live with us, you’d kill Sherlock within a week, and then I’d have to help you to hide his body.”

Greg seizes on this in triumph “The part you’re worried about is me living with you? So you do think you could end up with him.”

John really doesn’t know what to say about this, or to think to be honest, Greg does have a point, that had been the part that had struck him as most odd. This conversation is becoming far too strange. “I think I’m going to go home now Greg, you, just, call me if you need to talk about things at home. Sometime when we haven’t had so much to drink, alright mate.”

John stands feeling slightly wobbly and pulled his coat on, waves in Greg’s direction and leaves to get a cab.

\-----------------------------------------

Sherlock hears the door close downstairs. John has left for his evening with “Greg”, why John couldn’t just call him Lestrade he doesn’t know, so much more distinguished, why would anyone want to be called Greg? Anyway, John is gone, back to the ears.

Sherlock is testing the disintegration of the cartilage in various solutions, you never know what some idiot is going to try to do to get rid of a body, best to test it all. He had been hampered by only having seven ears to work with (seven Molly? They come in pairs don’t they?), until John had suggested that maybe he could cut them up. So now he has 21 parts of ears to put into different solutions, but unfortunately only 15 beakers to work with. Oh well, he can use some of the tea mugs. Sherlock pauses for a moment, would John be angry about this (so inconvenient thinking about someone else, when had that happened?), but then realises that the acid he will be putting into the mugs must be an antibacterial, so really what he is doing is disinfecting the mugs, the ear parts are just incidental. There, no-one could be angry about disinfected mugs, so he carries on happily setting everything up.

Having his experiment all ready to go there is nothing else to do but wait. He could try looking for more pornography for his sex research, not that it was really working, but the angry text from Mycroft earlier that day about a certain online account made him think maybe it is an area deserving more study. Then again, other than his nap that morning he hasn’t really slept in days, maybe he could just have an hours sleep now, then he would be able to stay up all night for the next stage of his cartilage experiment, decision made he heads off to bed.

An hour later he wakes up to the alarm on his phone, feeling himself being dragged out of rather pleasant dream, not that he can remember the details, but he finds himself rather reluctant to leave. As sleep leaves him he leans over to switch off his alarm and then realises that something unexpected has happened, he is hard. Really hard actually, not like the half hearted effort that his member normally makes when this happens, and that is rare enough, as he had told John only about once a year, his body having given up such pointless activity in the face of years of neglect of this part of his anatomy. Now his body is betraying him, perhaps, although intellectually he had been rather bored by the videos he had watched last night, his body had been paying more attention than he thought. Well then, a cold shower would soon sort that out, he needs to beat this into submission, metaphorically of course, there will be no actual “beating”…However, what had John said earlier? Maybe it is just something you have to experience for yourself? The detective shudders, it is a quite disgusting thought, but then no-one is here, so no-one would know, and it is for The Work, it would be research. OK, just one time he would let his body win, then he can hopefully put all of this into context.

He then realises that while he has been debating what to do his penis had decided that it would betray him again and returned to its normal condition. Hmmm, what do all of the “normal” people do when they want to do this. From what he understands there is normally an element of fantasy, thinking about the object of their desire whilst pleasuring themselves. But what does he desire? Sherlock has no idea really, has so suppressed his libido that he honestly has no clue. 

Well, he tries thinking about the women in the videos from last night, and joining in with the activities, no, nothing. Maybe the men then, thinking about touching them, kissing, no, oh this is truly repulsive. What else are people attracted to if not men or women? He thinks with horror, some people are attracted to children, he isn’t a paedophile is he? He steels himself, he will think about this once, and if there is any interest he will lock this whole thing up in the deepest dungeon of his mind palace and never, ever go near it again. Thinking tentatively about touching a child in that way, he feels physically sick and stops immediately. Thank God for that! 

He tries desperately to remember his dream, oh, he had been at a crime scene, looking at a murder victim. Maybe it is dead bodies then, at least no-one gets hurt with necrophilia, although Molly would probably not be impressed with requests for a corpse to shag. He tries thinking of touching the dead flesh in something other than the clinical detachment that he normally used. However his member remains stubbornly flaccid.

This is truly ridiculous, laying down again he closes his eyes, trying to get back to a dream state to remember what had triggered this whole thing. Ah, here it is, the crime scene from a few weeks ago, he had looked at the body and very quickly given Lestrade his conclusion, it had been a boring case and he wanted to leave to get back home. He had turned to check if John was ready to go, and John had looked him straight in the eye and gasped “Amazing”. His penis gives a twitch, filling as his body directs blood flow to stiffen it. Oh, maybe it is praise that he enjoys. Sherlock thinks about all of the times in recent years that he has received admiration for his deductions, unfortunately these have almost all been from John, but that is obviously coincidental. 

As his penis became larger Sherlock became more nervous, is he really going to do this? He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes his pants and trousers down a little to allow himself to spring free from confinement. He begins to touch himself, not really sure what he is supposed to do, he had not watched any videos of masturbation last night, but as he strokes his penis he feels a shudder run through his body. That really is quite pleasant, but as he moves his hand faster he begins to feel his mind becoming hazy, becoming orientated only on physical sensation and disconnecting from his intellect. This is now a bit scary to be honest, not just a slowing of his mental skills as he had experienced in the past from drugs, but almost an absence of them. He almost stops, but this could be important, and John had thought it was something he should try. Continuing to move his fist over himself, holding a little tighter to increase the sensation, he continues to remember the times that he had been told he was “Amazing”, “Fantastic” or “Incredible”, he suddenly comes with a scream, the white fluid spurting out of him all over his thighs, pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. Sherlock’s mind has completely cleared as it happened, just a blinding white emptiness inside. He sits there in shock, trying desperately to recover his mental capabilities, but as he tries to enter his mind palace it all has the substance of smoke, he can not see anything clearly. The more he tries to cling to his thoughts and memories the more they seem to vanish.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time :-)

John leaves the pub and tries to catch a cab, feeling rather too drunk to attempt the walk home, however in the absence of Sherlock’s magical cab hailing abilities he ends up walking nearly a third of the way before eventually getting someone to stop for him. The chilly evening air has cleared his head slightly, so he makes it through the front door with no problems, but he is still slightly wobbly as he makes his way up the staircase to the flat he shares with his friend.

Just as John is putting the key into the lock on their door (only the second attempt, not too bad) he hears a loud scream from inside the flat. Instincts learnt through years of training and service kick in and John tears the door open and rushes in. There is no sign of Sherlock in the sitting room or kitchen, he quickly checks the bathroom, then dashes to Sherlock’s room and throws the door open, expecting to find an attacker in there hurting his flatmate. Instead he is presented with an image of Sherlock sitting on the side of the bed, facing him with his trousers and pants bunched around his thighs, his penis in his hand visibly softening in front of John’s eyes, and covered in semen. His eyes are wide and he seems not to be blinking. John, quickly switches from soldier mode to doctor mode.

“Sherlock? Are you OK? I’m just going to check your pulse.” He feels for a pulse on Sherlock’s wrist, the one not covered in sticky fluid. It is fast, but not alarmingly so. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, OK.” Sherlock was holding his breath, but now takes in a ragged gasp and blinks slowly. He seems to be able to hear John, but not to really be there. Not looking at him or replying. Oh, he must be in his mind palace. In the absence of medical emergency John feels himself switch back from doctor mode to his current default of drunken mode. He finds himself staring at his friend’s cock, and mentally shakes himself, that is not good.

Sherlock must have taken his advice to try sex for himself. He now seems to be in shock. Can’t leave him like this. John guides Sherlock to a standing position, not easy given that he was slightly wobbly himself, removes his friend’s trousers and pants, and pulls the soiled t-shirt over his head, quickly finding more clothes in Sherlock’s chest of drawers. For his part Sherlock is pliable like a poseable doll, moving where John puts him and pretty much staying there, not really taking in his surroundings at all.

John is just about to put the fresh clothes onto Sherlock when he looks at his penis again, (Damn it! Oh. He is covered in come). Sighing John goes to the bathroom and collects a damp cloth, he returns and starts to clean Sherlock’s legs, mentally telling himself “I am a doctor, this is fine”, and penis, “not gay, not gay, not gay”. He then clothes his flatmate and sits him back down on the bed. His pulse rate seems to have calmed, and his breathing and blinking are more regular, so John pushes him to lie down, throws the blanket over him and leaves the room.

As he makes his way up the stairs to his own room, John wonders to himself how many other people in the world would have cleaned ejaculate off of their flatmate’s penis and put them back to bed. He reaches his room and collapses on top of his bed, fully clothed, and falls instantly to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments you have been leaving, I really appreciate them.


	6. Chapter 6

John awakes to a sound reminiscent of an air raid siren. The blaring sound is incessant and although he grabs the pillow to cover his ears he can not block it out. As his brain switches on fully he realises it is in fact his alarm clock going off that has woken him, for some reason the clock seems to believe that he needs to go to work today, but IT IS BLOODY SUNDAY! He has only recently got it after his last one met an unfortunate end, and had obviously failed to understand the settings. Why is it going off? Stupid, stupid, bloody thing. John throws it against the wall, where it gives a last valiant attempt at squawking at him before giving up the ghost and going to join its fallen comrade in the electronic afterlife.

Great! Now John is awake at 6:30 in the morning on a Sunday, with another massive hangover. He takes stock of his situation. Sometime in the night he must have shifted to get under the covers, but he is still fully dressed from last night. Thinking about the events from the previous evening the first clear memory to return was of Greg’s situation with his wife. Shit, he had pretty much just left Greg after being told that he was having trouble at home. Must call Greg later to apologise, and arrange to meet up to talk properly about it. Thinking it through though, in the state he had been in last night, he would not really have been able to contribute anything of any use to his friend’s situation, still, should have given it a go though. 

A vague memory of a dream comes back to him, that night in Afghanistan with Andy when the loneliness had become too much for both of them, but surely Andy hadn’t had such dark hair, and wasn’t he a lot shorter than he had been in the dream? John dismisses the thought, dreams are always full of crazy things, it isn’t important. 

Ok, what else happened last night? Yes, there it is, came home, and, oh! Hell! Why did I do that? 

John tries for several minutes to reason out why he had thought it a good reason to go into Sherlock’s room, clean, change and put him to bed last night. The first part was obvious, there was no way that he could have not checked his pulse and breathing when his flatmate had looked that far into shock, but after that he should have just left him to it. It is none of his business what Sherlock gets up to, and he certainly has no right to be touching him or removing his clothes without permission, not unless Sherlock is seriously injured, and in the light of day (or muddy pre-dawn light at least) John concedes that what had seemed like an emergency situation last night, had actually been nothing of the sort. He is always taking care of Sherlock, feeding him, trying to make him sleep and tidying up after him, but this was too far. He will have to apologise to Sherlock as well now, this is going to be a very awkward conversation.

\----------

 

Sherlock wakes in the morning feeling groggy, he never slept that long and his head feels thick and full of cotton wool, although the contents of his mind palace all seem to have returned to their proper places. Thinking back to the previous evening he feels vaguely disgusted with himself for what he had done, feeling bad that he had broken his childhood vow not to debase himself like that. If he had some results to show for his experiment he would feel better, but he is more confused than ever, not only was the act disgusting and unsanitary, but had also been terrifying. His mind was torn away from him, leaving him clutching for the remaining tatters, trying to cling to his intellect, the thing that defined him. Why? Why is this considered pleasurable? 

He had been dimly aware of John entering his room and cleaning him. Sherlock should feel ashamed about that, John seeing him in such a state and knowing what he had done, but surprisingly he doesn’t, just a little embarrassed. John hadn't laughed when Sherlock told him about his inexperience (barring the misunderstanding about Mycroft), and Sherlock thinks that he can trust him not to laugh about this. John is his best friend, and his doctor, and always takes care of him. He was so kind last night, just gently taking care of the mess that Sherlock was incapable of dealing with and making sure that he was comfortable in bed. In fact John’s presence had been like an anchor to tether Sherlock while he had been so adrift, his only wish was that John could have stayed longer while he had tried to rebuild his mind from the wreckage. 

Sherlock gets out of bed and goes to shower, hoping the water will clear his head, and thinking that he should make a plan to thank John for looking after him.

\---------------------

 

By 7:30am John gives up any attempt at returning to sleep and heads down to the kitchen to get some water and painkillers for his headache. He didn’t really look at the kitchen last night beyond checking whether his friend was in there being attacked, so is surprised to be met with the sight of the kitchen table covered in beakers and tea mugs, all filled with liquid and pieces of human ears in various states of disintegration. He feels a flash of anger at Sherlock for using the mugs like this, but seeing as he owes the detective an apology decides to let it pass this time, there has definitely been more disgusting experiments than this conducted in the flat.

Turning away from the sink with a glass of water in his hand he hears the front door open and close and then his flatmate comes into view carrying a brown paper bag emblazoned with the logo for Speedy’s.

“John, you’re up, I thought I was going to have to wake you. I was going to make you breakfast, but there was no food in the fridge, or mugs for coffee, so I went out to get some.” Sherlock lifts the bag in the air in demonstration. “Go and sit down, I’ll bring it through.”

John takes his glass and the package of painkillers into the other room and sits in his armchair. This is all very confusing. Last night he had all but assaulted his flatmate by touching him in a very inappropriate manner, and now he is being given breakfast. Maybe Sherlock is going to ask him to leave, and is trying to soften the blow. 

“Here we are,” Sherlock says entering the room juggling a plate and two paper cups “bacon and egg roll, and coffee.” He handed the plate to John and placed one of the cups on the small table next to his chair, keeping the other cup for himself and sitting in his own chair.

“Aren’t you eating anything?”

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand “Not hungry.”

“You really should eat, we could share this.” John replies, trying to keep the conversation to food and prevent what he feels is inevitably coming next.

“No, I am not hungry. Now, we should talk about last night.”

John knows the time has come for this, he blurts out “I am so sorry Sherlock, I should never have done what I did. You were vulnerable when I came in and you must feel like I took advantage of that. I shouldn’t have touched you, or any of that, taking your clothes off or, or anything.”

Sherlock looks shocked at the outburst. “What are you talking about?”

Oh bugger! “Don’t you remember? Last night you had been… well….you know, and I came in and… you know.”

“John, I remember you coming into my room and looking after me when I was in distress. You cleaned me and helped me to get changed out of my soiled clothing and then made sure that I was comfortable. Did something else happen that I don’t remember?” The detective narrows his eyes slightly, from John’s statement he feels that he should be suspicious of his friend, especially the unnamed “anything” that John seems so worried about, but he finds that he can’t believe that there is anyway that his doctor would have done anything inappropriate.

“No, no, that’s about it. But I took all of your clothes off and cleaned your…genitals…without your permission. I shouldn’t have done that. I am so sorry. I just, I had had a lot to drink and it seemed like you were in shock or something. I didn’t think it through, I just wanted to look after you.”

Sherlock smiles at his friend. “Thank you John, that is what this,” gesturing to the food and coffee “is all about. I’m really grateful to you for taking care of me. I am a little embarrassed at you finding me that way, but I was in considerable distress, and your presence…helped me.”

“Oh, ok. So you’re not upset about it then?”

“Well, you have seen me naked before, and when you have patched me up in the past you have touched probably almost every other part of my body. Also you are a doctor so I am presuming that you quite regularly touch…genitals, as you say, so I really don’t see the problem. I must say though that I am a little upset about the results of my experiment, it was an absolutely terrifying experience and my only conclusion can be that the reason everyone seems so obsessed with sex is that they are idiots.” The last is said with a slight snarl to emphasize the extent to which Sherlock disapproves of the entire human race.

“Why was it terrifying? You just…you know…with your hand, didn’t you? That’s what it looked like.”

“Yes, it was the actual, uh, orgasm, that was the terrifying part. My brain was almost completely shut down, I couldn’t think and my mind palace was gone. My mind is who I am, the rest, as I have told you before, is just transport, so without my mind I was…lost.” Sherlock had started this speech confidently, but by the end seems more unsure of himself and more self conscious to be talking about such a personal matter.

“We don’t have to talk about this you know, it’s really none of my business. But if you want to know, I quite like how at that moment you are so focused on the physical, the here and now without the distractions of everyday life. Just concentrating on feeling and not thinking for once. If you don’t like it though, well, there’s no law that says you have to do it again.” John says shrugging.

The two men sit for several minutes just sipping coffee and John eating his breakfast. They are both at a loss as to what else to say on the matter.

Eventually Sherlock breaks the silence by saying fondly “Well, as I have always said John, you are an idiot.”

Sherlock rises from his chair and starts towards the kitchen to examine the remains of the ears, calling over his shoulder “I have a much more productive experiment underway that I must collect the results from.”

John, remembering about the mugs briefly considers complaining about it now that it seems he has nothing to apologise for after all, but decides against it, smiling with affection at the insane genius he shares his life with. He calls out gently “Just make sure you clean those mugs out afterwards.” and goes to the bathroom to shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this and realising that when I write I can't even stick to one tense in the same sentence, let alone over a whole paragraph. Fun times :-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries to work out why his thoughts keep turning to Sherlock, and decides he needs to do something to distract himself.

In the week after the revelation that Sherlock was not upset about ‘The Event’, John finds it increasingly hard to stop thinking about it. The look of shock on his face from the power of his orgasm, the way his cock had looked in his hand. A few times John caught himself touching himself thinking about holding that cock in his own hand, showing Sherlock how good an orgasm could feel, or, God help him, imagining putting his lips around it and doing the things that John loved to be done to him. He would swiftly force himself to think about something else before finishing, one of his exes or that lady presenter on the TV that he liked.

It isn't that he is against gay people, he just isn't one. It is something you know about yourself.

 My name is John.

 I am a doctor.

 I am a man.

 I like tea.

 I am straight.

Despite what Sherlock had thought the boy at uni had really just been a dare and the thing in Afghanistan had just been mutual jerking off, they had lost 6 men that day and it had happened out of despair and desperation to feel that they were alive and not alone.

Never before has John actively fantasised about touching another man, and it is frankly terrifying to find it happening now. Sherlock is his best friend, they get on even if he can be rude, condescending and inconsiderate. Although thinking about it, nowadays a lot of that unpleasantness seems to be directed at other people, increasingly he seems to be making an effort with John to think about what he might need. He hardly ever leaves him at crime scenes now, and if they are out he will sometimes stop what they are doing to make sure John gets some food, even if the has no intention to eat himself. None of this explains sexual fantasies though.

He has been out with Greg a few more times in an attempt to distract himself and also to apologise for his awful behaviour after finding out that Greg’s relationship was in trouble. It turns out Greg is pretty resigned to things ending, but seems grateful to have someone to commiserate with, and to have a bit of a rant with about her behaviour. John is happy to do anything he can to help but it really does nothing to stop the increasingly intrusive thoughts about Sherlock.

John decides that what he needs is a date, and sex, with a woman. This whole thing is probably because it has been a few months and he is getting cabin fever, or Stockholm syndrome or something cooped up with the man.

He has been working some shifts at the out of hours clinic at the hospital, so the next evening at work he approaches one of the nurses who works the obstetrics ward. She is of medium height, slim build and thick red hair. Despite being slim she has fairly large breasts, and on the occasions he has seen her in passing out of uniform she seems to dress to accentuate them, so there is no danger of him confusing her with a man. The main reason he had chosen this particular woman though is that he has heard rumours that she is "easy". He normally hates gossip like that, feeling it is disrespectful, and normally he would shy away from the idea of just going out with someone for sex, but this is what he needs, someone who will have sex with him quickly without having to go on several dates first. After chatting for a few minutes he decides that she is nice enough, and from her flirty behaviour she seems interested in him so he asks her out for dinner the following day, fortunately this coincides with them both having an evening off shift. 

\---~~~---

John takes Lisa out to a French restaurant he went to once with one of his exes, never with Sherlock. This is supposed to distance himself from the man as much as possible, so no associations are good. About 15 minutes into dinner, before the main courses have even arrived it is becoming clear that the rumours about her are, if anything, an under exaggeration. She has rubbed her leg against his several times and the level of flirting is almost comical, she has done everything but come out and said that she wants to sleep with him tonight. John is beginning to wonder why he bothered taking her to this expensive restaurant, it seems he could have just got her a bag of crisps and she would have been raring to go.

By the end of the meal he has realised that he could not stand to spend more than the occasional chat with her, the flirting is incessant and beginning to verge on the vulgar, and it seems that beyond working at the hospital they have nothing else in common. However, time to make his move.

"So, shall we go back to yours?"

"I'd prefer to come to yours." She whispers, placing her hand on his thigh and sliding it upwards until her little finger is only millimeters from his crotch. 

"Ok." John stutters back, stunned as under the table her hand slowly wanders even higher, rubbing lightly over the developing bulge in his trousers. He stands quickly, dislodging her hand, and pulling on his jacket which is just long enough to hide the evidence of his excitement. He gestures towards the exit, she almost leaps out of her chair and links arms with him, and they leave to get a taxi.

On arrival at the flat John manages to unlock the door with shaking hands, they are both slightly tipsy from the wine they drank with the meal, but John had been careful not to let either of them get too drunk, he'd wanted to make sure that Lisa knew what she was doing when she agreed to sleep with him. The shaking hands are more the result of excitement at the coming events, in the taxi Lisa had kissed him almost the entirety of the trip, tongues sliding together desperately, and had continued to touch him, light touches to his groin, lingering caresses on his chest and arms, and John had reciprocated although less boldly, limiting himself to touching her arms, back and gently tugging her hair whilst deepening their kisses. It has all led to a level of arousal that is causing John to lose the ability to think coherently. Eventually the door relents and allowed them access, John takes Lisa's hand and half drags her up the stairs to the flat he shares with his best friend. They tumble through the door kissing and Lisa undoing buttons on John’s shirt, John is just about to tug her towards his room when he spots Sherlock sitting in his chair with a newspaper. The tall man is watching them curiously, and then stands and moved towards the pair by the front door.

"John, who is.. this." The detective asks, clearly unsure what to make of the person currently trying to pull John's shirt out of his trousers. 

Sherlock had spent the past few days solving a relatively easy case for a client from his website, and repeating his cartilage experiment that, it had turned out, had been ruined by being left overnight instead of the planned 2 hours. He has pointedly not been thinking about his investigations into motives behind sexuality, having decided that although it was an important area of study, he would do better to distance himself from the disastrous events in his bedroom before continuing. However, this looks like it could be a valuable opportunity.

John has frozen, but then recovers his senses enough to gently hold Lisa's hands in place and reply "This is Lisa, we have just been to dinner, don't worry we will be going to my room so we won't disturb you. Lisa, this is Sherlock, my flatmate."

Lisa turns her head away from John and looks Sherlock up and down, it seems as if she almost automatically assesses every man she meets as a potential sexual partner. She smiles widely and her eyes flick to Sherlock's lips, John finds himself following her gaze and staring at those tempting lips, and then realised that he is in trouble. Great, Lisa has managed to wind him up to an almost painful level of arousal, and now this is all being transferred towards Sherlock, the exact opposite of the plan. Time to move this along. He starts to tug Lisa towards the bedroom when Sherlock asks "Are you going to engage in sexual intercourse?"

"Sherlock, what the hell, you can’t just ask people that!" John replies, at the same time as Lisa bites her lip and breathes "Oh yes."

"Good, can I watch?" Sherlock asks looking between the two of them "It could be very instructive."

John just gapes at him, what is happening? The frightening thing is that the erection which had been bulging against his trousers has become even harder in response to his friend’s question, threatening to break the zip now.

"John, did you plan this?" Lisa asks.

"No, no, no definitely not, I wanted to go to your flat, remember." John starts, desperate to defend himself, but then her tone of voice registers, she isn’t accusing him, she sounds impressed with the plan, and excited at the prospect of being watched.

"Do you want to do more than watch?" Lisa asks Sherlock, rubbing his lower arm with one hand, while the other arm is still draped around John’s waist.

The two men both simultaneously shout "No!", and Sherlock jerks his arm back out of her reach, an appalled look in his face. That is not the plan at all.

"No, I don't do.. that kind of thing." Sherlock tries to explain.

"Sherlock is doing a scientific study into sex," John says, trying to excuse his idiot flatmate without putting Lisa off so much that she leaves. "He just has some things to learn about boundaries." He explains, whilst shooting daggers at Sherlock with his eyes.

"Well, I'm all for science." Lisa says in a seductive tone, returning her attentions to John, kissing his jaw and almost wrapping herself around him. "Which room?" She asks, and when John indicates the door of his room she starts to lead him over to it, looking over her shoulder to ask "Are you joining us then?"

As the detective starts towards the room John pulled away and says "Just give us a minute." He grabs Sherlock's arm and drags him into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching you have sex of course, I thought we’d covered that." This had seemed like a good idea on the spur of the moment when John had come home, but he is now feeling a little nervous about it, still, no reason to let John know that.

"No, you're not. That’s totally inappropriate. Flatmates don't do that kind of thing."

"I thought we were friends." Sherlock says, looking slightly sad and confused.

"OK, yes, we are friends, but friends don't do that either. What are you thinking? Have you gone crazy?"

"You know I need to do research, you told Lisa that yourself. What is the problem?" Sherlock says desperately thinking ‘Keep up the pretence, this is all fine, there is no reason to be concerned about that woman touching my friend.’

"It's a private thing, I don't go around letting just anyone see me like that, surely you can understand that."

"So you don't mind her seeing you like that, a woman who you hardly know, and I can tell you have virtually nothing in common with. But I, your best friend, am not allowed, this is all very confusing John."

John sags down onto the kitchen chair, this is not going well. He really couldn't think how to explain this, when on the surface it doesn't really make sense that he would rather a stranger see him in that intimate state than the man that he shares his home, work and life with. Added to that his traitorous body is insisting that now that it has been wound up to expect release this warm, safe, attractive body with him in the kitchen will do very well thank you, and to hang with what gender it happens to be.

"We’ll talk about it in the morning, just stay out here, I'm going into my bedroom with Lisa now." He stands and goes to the door, turning back he sees Sherlock hang his head, and, is his lip trembling? "Sherlock, what's wrong now?" He asks, a little more gently.

Sherlock can't hold his misgivings in any more "I don't know John, I just feel like, I don't want you to go in there with her. I don't really know why. I'm sorry," he looks even more lost now "I'll just go out then. Enjoy your coitus." Sherlock pushes past him, grabs his coat and leaves the flat.

John goes to his room, Lisa is on his bed naked, lying back in what should be a seductive manner, however John’s arousal is now flagging, and he can't get the image of how sad his friend had looked as he left out of his head. He takes a few deep breaths and then makes a decision. "I'm really sorry, I don't think this is going to work out. I'll call you a cab, ok? Don't worry I'll pay for it."

“There is nothing to "work out" John, I hope you weren't looking for anything long term, this is just a hook up. Come to bed, we can have some fun before I leave."

There it is, offered on a plate, but all he can think is that he needs to go and find Sherlock and make sure that he is ok. "No, I really am sorry, but I need to go find my friend, I'll go call the cab while you get dressed. Sorry." 

"Did you have an argument? It isn't a big deal you know, I've always wanted to be watched. Anyway he's a grown man, don't let him spoil our fun." As she says this she wantonly opens her legs and begins touching herself, all the while looking John straight in the eye, trying everything she can to tempt him.

"No!!" He shouts, feeling really annoyed now, "Just get dressed." He goes out of the room slamming the door behind him and picks up his phone to get a cab to come and collect this woman, who he now never wants to see again in his life.

A few minutes later Lisa appears out of the bedroom, fully dressed "I'll wait for the cab downstairs." She hisses at him, slamming the door to the flat behind her.

John breathes a sigh of relief, what had he been thinking? One night stands are really not his thing, not since his army days at least, and this disaster just went to prove it. He grabs his phone, although he has an urge to just go out looking for Sherlock, the reality is that he could be anywhere.

**-Where are you? Please come home, Lisa is gone now.**

A few minutes go by before Sherlock replies, and John starts to worry that maybe something has happened to him, but then he hears the familiar message tone.

**-Did you have a quickie? Isn't that particularly fast for sexual intercourse? Do you suffer from premature ejeculation? Wouldn't manners dictate that she should stay for some time afterwards, even until the morning? SH**

John allowed himself a slight smile at the questions before answering

**-No you git, we didn't do anything after we were interrupted.**

He presses send and then realises that this could sound like he was angry, when in fact he is just concerned about Sherlock and if anything grateful that he has been prevented from making what he can now see would have been a mistake in sleeping with her. He quickly sends another text.

**-Please come home, we need to talk :-)**

**-You know I hate those smiley face things. I'm sorry I ruined things for you. SH**

**-Just come home, I'm sorry if I upset you.**

**-I am on my way. You have nothing to apologise for, you can do whatever you want, I do not understand why I got upset. SH**

Before John can formulate a response to this his flatmate walks through the door looking very downhearted.

"John, I really am sorry, I may not understand it but you enjoy sex, and I seem to have deprived you of that. It really was not my intention."

"Go and sit down, I'll make some tea and we can chat." John heads into the kitchen and returns a few minutes later with two mugs.

"So, I understand that you wanted to watch us having sex, to continue your study about it. Is that right?" John says.

"It would be much more useful than the pornography, to see two real people, and I can read your emotions much better than anyone else's."

"Yes, I see that, but we are going to have to talk about boundaries later. What I am really confused about is why you got upset before you left. What caused that?"

"I don't know John, I was planning on coming into your room, and academically it all made sense to observe the two of you together. But then I think I started thinking about that... woman touching you and I felt, I don't really know how to explain, kind of sick I suppose. I, I don't really know what else to say, I promise I will not interfere with your sex life again."

"Ok, well, thanks for that, but why didn't you want her touching me? What about it was upsetting you?"

"I don't know John, I told you that, I think I am going to go to bed now." Sherlock replies, sounding a bit snappy now at being asked to explain something that he can not. He stands and tries to go to his room, but John quickly intercepts him and blocks his path.

"Sherlock, I really want to understand this, you looked so sad and I hate that I caused it. Maybe if we work it out we can stop it from happening again."

Sherlock returns to his seat and mumbles "I don't know what to say."

John returns to his own armchair "Well, shall I have a guess, and you see how you feel about what I say? You told me the other day that you find that kind of thing disgusting, and that you think it is degrading, do you think maybe you felt you didn't want me to be degraded like that?"

Sherlock gives this some thought for a few moments "No, I don't think that is it, I have become accustomed to the disgusting nature of the act in the course of our conversation into your sexual history and my other investigations recently. Although it seems distasteful I don't think that would have been so upsetting. As for being degrading, that is more in regards to myself and Mycroft, who are so intellectual, whereas you are much more physical so it doesn't seem so bad for you."

John gives a little chuckle at that "Are you saying I'm so dumb that it is no loss if my mind gets turned off?" he smiles slightly to show that he hasn't taken offence. "Ok, well, let me think for a second then."

Sherlock just sits looking at him, he’s worried, feelings are not his area and it is disconcerting to feel so out of control. It does feel comforting that John is concerned about him, and trying so hard to help, and he has a sudden urge to be nearer to his friend, but doesn't really know what to do about it.

"When you, you know, the other day, you didn't like it. Do you think maybe subconsciously you were trying to protect me from having an experience that you found frightening?"

Again, Sherlock gives this a few moments thought. "No, I don't think so, you’ve told me repeatedly that you enjoy sex, so I don't think that is it. I think it was more her that was the problem."

"So you didn't like her?"

To this Sherlock has no hesitation "No, when she first came in with you I thought she would be a suitable subject for my study, but when I thought of her in relation to you I suddenly felt that I really disliked her."

"Ah, well that explains it, I, um, I don't think I like her very much either. Once you’d gone I asked her to leave and I realised that I never want to see her again."

"But why did you want to bring her here, if you didn't like her?" Sherlock asks, genuinely confused now.

"It was just sex. I just wanted to have sex, and she was willing, so, yeah. But I'm glad I didn't now, I think my one night stand days are behind me, and I think I would have felt bad afterwards if I had done it, so, thanks for stopping me, even if you didn't intend to."

"Why were you so desperate for sex though John?"

John can not tell his flatmate that it was to distract himself from the confusing thoughts he had been having recently "Just, all this talk about sex I suppose, it's just been on my mind. But don't worry I won't be doing that again, I'll just have to put a bit more effort into finding someone special. Who knows, maybe if I'm lucky I can find the right girl and finally get married." John stands "Well, I think we’ve cleared that up, do you feel better now?"

Sherlock looks at him, no he doesn't feel better, but he nods anyway, hoping that he is managing to hide his feelings from his friend.

"Well, I'm going to bed then, I'll see you in the morning." John ruffles Sherlock's hair on the way past, then wonders why he had done that, he looks over his shoulder and continues "Thanks for looking out for me, really, but don't worry, I'll take more care about who I bring home in future."

Sherlock stares at John’s retreating back. He doesn't feel better at all, the thought of John trying to find a long term partner suddenly seems terrifying. What the hell is happening to him, he has felt more overwhelming emotions in the last few weeks than he has in the previous 5 years. He decides to go to bed and try to sleep just to stop thinking about the events from this evening.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are starting to figure things out.

John lays in bed thinking about his life. Why had he turned Lisa down? She was right, Sherlock was a grown man, so why had he felt so compelled to check on him after he had left in a strop? He tries to convince himself that he had been worried about Sherlock going out and getting drugs, but honestly he hadn't even thought about that at the time. He knows it is a danger that his friend could relapse, but he has been doing so well with his addiction that John hadn't really thought tonight was the night he would fall off the wagon. 

Maybe it was Lisa, she was, for want of a better term, a slut, and John had never found that particularly attractive. Maybe if it had been a woman that he really liked he wouldn't have blown her off. Time to make a plan, what does he really want in a long term partner, someone he could marry? He makes a mental list: 

Loyal, it has to be someone he can count on to be on his side. 

Trustworthy, kind of goes along with loyal really. 

Interesting, someone who he could spend time with without being bored. 

Willing to put up with his adrenaline junkie lifestyle of chasing around after criminals. 

Fun, goes along with interesting really, but someone he can have a laugh with. 

Attractive, someone he is physically attracted to, although he supposed this needn't be at the top of the list, he has seen it before where people just click emotionally and the complicated chemicals in the brain convince them that their partner is the most beautiful person alive, even if anyone else on first glance would see nothing beautiful at all. 

So, how can he find all of this in one person? As he drifts off to sleep, he has vague impressions of the way he had felt towards Sherlock in the kitchen, and an unbidden image of kissing the man passionately against the fridge while Sherlock's strong hands find their way into his pants and.. Oh god. John half wakes from his dream covered in semen, but is too tired to do anything about it, and can't summon enough energy to worry about why it was Sherlock who had been the star of the dream. He drifts back to sleep with his come drying on his stomach and sated from his release sleeps dreamlessly through to morning. 

\------- 

In the morning John wakes early, gets up, showers and dresses and then sits at the kitchen table with his tea, toast, a notepad and a pen. Sherlock has yet to emerge from his room, this is not unusual, when he does sleep he prefers to lie in late so John is fairly confident of not being interrupted. He is planning on writing out the list he had begun in his head last night. It is obviously time for him to try to settle down if he is so desperate that he is beginning to fantasise about his best friend. Well, how did it go? 

Loyal/trustworthy 

Fun/interesting

Tolerant of his adrenaline filled lifestyle 

Attractive 

He is just trying to think what the next step should be to find someone like that when Sherlock walks in, his hair mussed from sleep, wearing grey pyjama bottoms and his blue dressing gown, slightly open at the front so John can see he is not wearing a t-shirt, his pale bare chest peeking out of the gap. John realises he is staring, and that affection has bloomed inside of him, and heat is beginning to pool in his groin at the sight of the dishevelled man. 

Sherlock asks "Do you want more tea?" His voice slightly rough from sleep. 

"Yes, thanks." John replies, looking harder at his friend. 

"Is there a problem John? You’re staring at me. Are you still cross about last night?" 

"No, no, not at all, I wasn't even cross last night you idiot. Just thinking, that's all, sorry." he says softly. 

"Ok." Sherlock says, sounding slightly unsure, and gets on with making tea for the two of them. 

John continues to stare at his friend's back as he is making the tea. He thinks of evenings spent together watching a film, Sherlock moaning about the plot or deducing the actors, John pretending to be annoyed but really having a great time. Going to restaurants and sharing takeaways. Teasing Mycroft and making fun of Anderson. How clever Sherlock is and yet how he tries to encourage John to try to observe better and how he hardly ever calls him an idiot anymore, apart from in jest. The two of them chasing down alleys and through warehouses, adrenaline pumping in their veins. The way that John had killed for the detective without a second thought, and the certainty that Sherlock would do the same for him. Fun, adrenaline, loyal, and oh crap, attractive too. Christ, it's him isn't it? John Watson is in love with Sherlock Holmes. What the hell is he supposed to do with that? 

Sherlock turns and joined him at the table, looking at him with narrowed eyes, trying to work out what is wrong with his friend. 

"John, why are you looking at me like that? You say you’re not angry, but you are flushed and your pupils are dilated, and you appear to be beginning to hyperventilate. Please tell me what is wrong." 

John desperately wonders what he can do? Sherlock is not interested in relationships, and as was proved last week he has no interest in sex. John needs to think about this more. He stands up slightly unsteadily, leaving the tea that Sherlock made on the table he says "I just remembered, I have a shift at the hospital, covering for someone on holiday. I'll have to dash to get there in time." He leaves the room, grabs his coat, shoes and wallet and hurries out of the flat, before Sherlock can deduce any more about his emotions. 

Sherlock sits at the table, watching his friend leave the flat so fast you would think it was on fire. He claimed to not be angry about last night, but something is very wrong, John is obviously lying about having a shift. What has he done wrong? And how can he fix this? It’s bad enough thinking about John wanting to leave soon to get married to some vacuous woman who can provide him with babies, but what if he leaves now, forever. That can't be allowed to happen, Sherlock needs him, he's not quite sure why, but John Watson's continued presence in the flat seems to be of utmost importance. A drop of water splashes onto his hand which is resting on the table, and Sherlock realises that he is crying silent tears at the thought of losing his friend. He feels an urge to go and visit some of his old dealers, and just get high so that he can stop feeling this, but that would definitely make John angry, and then he is even more likely to leave. No, drugs are not an option. He does still have a few cigarettes hidden away though, so he quickly dresses and takes them to the park to chain smoke, the hit of nicotine helping slightly to reduce his panic.

Once calmed as far as possible he tries to examine his feelings. John wants to leave, he wants to get married and have sex and babies, things that Sherlock cannot provide. Why is this a problem? 

Well, John is his friend, and if he leaves Sherlock will be left alone. He has gotten used to having someone to spend time with, talk to and to look after him, so it would be hard to go back to being alone all of the time. Is that it though, is that enough to induce panic and tears? What if he could persuade John to bring his wife to Baker Street, if he could find someone that Sherlock could stand to be around, and bring the baby up there? 

It would be a tight squeeze, but perhaps Mrs Hudson would allow them to take on 221C as well to give more space. Then there would be no loneliness, but still it doesn't feel right to Sherlock, something is still wrong with the scenario. John being there is good, John's baby would be a big change, but Sherlock is confident that if it was John's child he could maybe even learn to love it, so it is the woman. He tries to convince himself that John could find someone lovely, who they could both get on with, but even the most perfect imagined woman he can conjure makes him want to throw her out of the window when he thinks of her touching his John, being intimate with him, and getting to see parts of John's life that Sherlock is not allowed access to. 

Instead Sherlock imagines himself being the one allowed to touch John in that way, sharing his bed and giving him the sexual release that John had described to him the night after the rooftop. Sherlock comes back to reality with a jolt and realises that he is chilled and damp, he must have been sitting on the bench for at least an hour and it has been raining for some time. He also realises that he has an erection that is fortunately hidden by his coat. Why? He doesn't want to have sex, he had tried it and found it terrifying. What is going on? What should he do? 

John is the one who helps him with emotions, but he can't talk about this with John. What good would it do anyway? John has told him repeatedly that he is not interested in men, and although Sherlock has ribbed him about the experiences he had had with men, he really did believe his friend when he said that they didn't mean anything. Sherlock heads home sad and confused, pointedly ignoring the bulge in his trousers, willing it to just go away and leave him in peace. 

\------ 

For the next week the two men avoid one another as much as possible. 

Sherlock has come to understand that it as not praise that he is aroused by, but John himself, several inconvenient erections whilst thinking about or seeing John have been forced away by cold showers, leaving him shivering and confused. He has avoided John to try to avoid further occurrences. He has spent the time believing that John avoiding him is further evidence that the doctor is determined to leave following the disaster with Lisa to find a wife.

John has been avoiding Sherlock, embarrassed about his feelings and trying to force them to go away, and having increasingly detailed dreams and fantasies about him. He has been believing that Sherlock is avoiding him because he has deduced that John is in love with him and is angry and petrified that he is going to be propositioned. 

They are both thoroughly miserable.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time, sorry.

The stalemate is broken when Lestrade texts Sherlock with a case, a triple murder locked room, with beheadings, normally the detective would be almost explosive with excitement about such an interesting case, this is tempered by his sadness at Johns imminent departure, but still he cannot let this case go. He calls up the stairs "John we have a case! We need to leave in 5 minutes." And hurries to ready himself to go out. 

John hears the familiar voice calling from below and rushes to get dressed and presentable to go. He is excited to get to go to a crime scene again with Sherlock, but is nervous about if Sherlock confronts him about his feelings, and still deeply confused about what to do.

They leave in a taxi, and in the excitement it feels almost like the way things are a few weeks ago, however when they arrive Lestrade takes one look at them and knows something is wrong.

"Christ, what happened to you two? You both look like you haven't slept or eaten in a week."

"We’re fine Lestrade," Sherlock says in his best condescending tone "just show us the bodies before any of your trained monkeys manage to obliterate all of the clues."

John nudges his friend gently, and whispers "Please try to be nice, just because you are angry with me don't take it out on them."

Sherlock looks at him askance, what does he mean angry with him, it is John who is angry and planning to leave. However, there are decapitated bodies to deal with, so he pushes that to the side, he will have to deal with that later.

\-----

A few hours later they are on their way home, Sherlock is severely disappointed having solved the case so easily. It had turned out to have involved the three men being instructed to bolt and lock the door from the inside and then sit in particular chairs whilst waiting for a meeting, and a pulley system weighted by ice blocks pulling a thin garrotte wire through the room cutting the men's heads off on the way. The ice had subsequently melted and evaporated before the dead bodies were found, and the wire had been placed such that it could be pulled out by the man who had set it all up from outside of the warehouse, leaving only the pulleys behind. Sherlock has great admiration for the plan, but the idiot murderer had neglected to wear gloves when removing the wire so his fingerprints were found on the wall outside the warehouse next to the hole that the wire had been pulled through. He really does despair at the stupidity of the general population.

Back at the flat Sherlock is now in emotional turmoil, but is managing it by lying on the sofa and just wreaking havoc in his mind palace, the twitching of his hands the only outward sign of him demolishing rooms and tearing down doors in his head. He is disappointed and bored, emotions he struggles with on their own, but on top of this there is the upset of his best friend wanting to leave him, the confusion of not wanting John to sleep with anyone else, and his body being desperately attracted to him despite Sherlock being terrified of actually having sex with him. Just to complete it all there is the knowledge that although he does and doesn't want to engage in intercourse with John, John is not gay and doesn't want to have sex with him, which leads to equal feelings of rejection and relief.

John has made tea and is sitting in his armchair watching his friend lying almost perfectly still on the sofa, apart from his hands twitching manically, and with an intense frown on his face. Greg is right, something is seriously wrong, and this cannot continue. It is obvious that Sherlock is struggling with something, and John's guess is that he has worked out that John is in love with him but is afraid that he is going to have to do something that he doesn't want to do to stop John from leaving. On realising this he decides that he needs to talk to Sherlock about this.

"Sherlock, Sherlock! Please come out, I need to talk to you." There is no response so he kneels on the floor next to him and gently rubs Sherlock's shoulder to try to ease him out, repeating softly "Sherlock, Sherlock." over and over. Gradually the detective's hands still and he turns his head, his eyes coming into focus as he looks at John, seeming slightly startled to see him so close.

"Sherlock, we need to talk. Things haven't been right for a while and we really need to sort it out."

"No John, please don't say it. Please don't say you are leaving me." Sherlock pleads, his eyes starting to fill with tears. "You can bring her here, I promise I'll be nice to her, I won't make her leave."

"What? Who are you talking about? I just wanted to say that I know you have worked out my feelings for you and I don't want you to worry, I know you don't do relationships and I will never expect you to do anything you don't want to. I hope you know I would never force you to have sex, or threaten to leave if you don't want to." Honestly the thought of Sherlock worrying about that hurts his heart.

"What feelings? John, why would I be worried about you forcing me into sex, you don't like men like that, why would you want that? You are leaving to go and marry some boring woman."

"No! I'm not, I'm in love with you. But please don't worry, we don't need to have sex, I promise I won't ask that of you." Even though he desperately wants to, if that is what would make Sherlock happy. "Just, I wish you could love me back, but I know that can't happen. It's fine, nothing needs to change, we can still be friends and I'll just make myself move on. I'll find someone else, but I'll always want you to be my friend, I'll always want to see you as much as I possibly can." John babbles, unable to stop the words from flowing.

Sherlock gets up from the sofa, and John gets up from the floor so they are now standing inches apart facing each other, both nearly vibrating with tension.

"But you said you were going to try harder to find a wife." Sherlock shouts at his friend.

"Yes, and then I realised that it is you. You are the one that I want." John shouts back.

"You want me to be your wife?" Sherlock yells, shocked and confused about the direction this is going.

"Yes! Well no, not wife, but yes, you!"

Sherlock stares for a second, then grabs John by the shoulders and kisses him hard on the lips. John pulls back quickly, stopping the kiss before Sherlock has a chance to do more than press their lips together hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta Daa!!
> 
> They talked!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay since the last update.

"What are you doing, I told you I don't expect anything from you, I don't want you doing anything you don't want."

 

Sherlock pulls John close again, and gently kisses his cheek. "I know you don't, but I do want to kiss you. I am finding this all very confusing, but I’m coming to realise that I have feelings for you that go far beyond friendship. I'm hoping that you can help me to work out the rest."

 

They just stand there, not touching but only inches apart, staring into each others eyes, and unsure of what to do, for almost a whole minute before Sherlock says tremulously "You really love me?"

 

"Yes, and you love me?" John whispers.

 

"I honestly don't know, I've never felt like this before, but..I think I might."

 

They move towards each other and hug gently.

 

"Sherlock, you, you, um.." John looks down, but isn't really sure what to say about the erection that he can feel pushing into his stomach.

 

Sherlock pulls away quickly "I'm sorry." He says, flustered, and starts to move further away. John grabs his arm to stop him.

 

"No, don't apologise, it's fine."

 

"I don't know what I want to do John. My body seems to want to do....things with you, but I didn't like it before, it's very scary."

 

"We can take it slow, I'm nervous too, I've never really been with a man, well, you know all about what I have and haven't done."

 

"But what if I never want to?"

 

"Ok, sit, I'll get the whisky and we can talk."

 

Sherlock looks panicked "I don't want to get drunk."

 

John looks at his friend, and says sadly "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, I wish you would believe me about not wanting to make you do anything."

 

Sherlock feels guilty, that had been his initial thought and he feels bad that that thought had ever come into his head in relation to John. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'm very good at this."

 

They both sit down together on the sofa, without whisky, and John holds Sherlock close, their foreheads and noses together. John mumbles "Do you want to talk more now, or shall we just get a takeaway and watch a film and let this all sink in?"

 

"Takeaway please." Sherlock says, relieved to be offered a break from this difficult conversation.

 

John gets up, calls for a Chinese and busies himself getting plates and tea, and finding a film while waiting for the food. Sherlock sits watching him, trying to absorb what is happening, half an hour ago he thought he was losing John forever, and now it seems that he is in some kind of relationship, possibly engaged, he is not quite clear on that point, and that John is happy to let them be together without having to have sex.

 

The food arrives and they sit close on the sofa, a film on the TV, although Sherlock could not say what film it was, John’s leg pressed up against his is far too distracting.

 

When the food is finished they put the plates on the coffee table, and John puts his arm around Sherlock, pulling him so that the taller man's head is resting on his shoulder. John whispers "Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable with this."

 

In response Sherlock puts his arm around Johns back and gives a gentle squeeze. They stay like that until the credits roll. "Should we talk now?" Sherlock asks.

 

"If you want to. Or do you want to sleep on it first?"

 

"Can I sleep with you? Is that ok?"

 

John’s mouth hangs open in shock. "Do you really want that?"

 

"I think so, I'm really scared about all of this, but being close to you makes me feel better, you feel safe."

 

"So you trust me now not to take advantage of you?"

 

Sherlock's face drops a little "I'm sorry John, that was stupid of me, of course you wouldn't do that. I just, the only experience I have of this is when I was using and people used to try to get me to give them sexual favours for drugs, or get me high so that I couldn't stop them."

 

John grabs Sherlock and hugs him tight, "Did any of them succeed?" he whispers with tears in his eyes, in the shock of the situation forgetting that Sherlock had told him he had never had sex. Sherlock shakes his head, and John continues "I wish you had never gone through that, but I won't treat you like that. I would really like it if you slept with me tonight." He stands and pulls Sherlock to his feet, he starts to lead his friend towards his bedroom, but Sherlock resists saying "I'm just going to get changed, I'll come in a minute, if that's ok." 

 

"Of course." John replies.

 

Five minutes later John is in bed wearing jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. He normally sleeps in his pants, but thought he should be more covered up for this, when he hears a knock on the door, followed by Sherlock tentatively peering into the room.

 

"Come in." John says, lifting the covers to allow his friend in.

 

Sherlock slips into the bed and they lay next to each other flat on their backs, not touching, until John breaks the tension by shifting over, placing a kiss on the top of Sherlock's head and gathering him into his arms. He whispers directly into his ear "I love you. Let’s just go to sleep and worry about the rest tomorrow."

 

Sherlock lets out the breath he had been holding and relaxes into John's embrace, putting aside all of his worries for the night. Within a few minutes both men are asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in bed together the boys share their first morning as a couple.

In the morning John awakes to find himself spooning his best friend, holding him from behind. It feels safe and warm, and totally perfect, except that he realises that he has a hard on that is pressed against Sherlock's arse. He doesn't want to scare his friend so he tries to move away carefully without waking him.

"John, you don't need to do that, I have been awake for half an hour, I am very aware of your arousal, I seem to be similarly affected."

John stops, and instead pulls his arms a little tighter. "Don't worry love," he replies, the endearment slipping out "we don't have to do anything about it."

Sherlock replies quietly, "I've been thinking. I think my vow to never have sex was a stupid mistake, I should have never allowed my 8 year old self, or Mycroft, to dictate the direction of my adult life."

"Maybe you're right, but still, you tried it and you didn't enjoy it. So that is enough. I just want to be with you, sex isn’t important."

"John, can I touch you? I think that, maybe, I don't want to have an orgasm, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't, and if you would find it pleasurable for me to do that for you, I think I would enjoy giving it to you."

John nuzzles against the nape of Sherlock's neck, placing soft kisses. "You don't need to, it isn't fair for me to ask that of you."

"But, it is fair. For example, if I enjoyed being beaten, but you didn’t, it would be entirely acceptable for you to beat me, but you would not want me to reciprocate and beat you in return would you?"

John is unsure of what to make of this "Are you saying you think you are into S&M? Because I have never tried that."

"No." Sherlock sounds exasperated by Johns misunderstanding. "That was just an example, but surely the point is that I want to do things to make you feel good. You are already doing things that make me feel good, holding me, telling me that you love me, and kissing me. I'm not sure if I want more than that, maybe we can try to work it out together, but for now I’m happy with this."

If there was any doubt that John is in love, this is now gone, hearing Sherlock saying these things has completely dispelled it. He pulls Sherlock around so that they are facing one another. "Thank you." He breathes, kissing Sherlock softly, then deepening the kiss, gently coaxing his friends lips apart and sliding his tongue inside for their first real kiss. Tongues sliding together, it is obvious that Sherlock is inexperienced, but he is a quick learner and soon the kiss is becoming more desperate. Sherlock starts to move his hands over John’s body, exploring him.

When John begins to follow suit he finds his hands gently returned to resting against Sherlock's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I'm not ready for that." Sherlock murmurs, before continuing to kiss him thoroughly while his hands roam over Johns back and chest, gradually moving lower until they settle on his hips.

Pulling away slightly Sherlock asks "Before we.. well, before, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Are we engaged? You said you wanted me to be your wife."

John feels a very large grin take over his face, it is totally unstoppable. "Do you love me, and do you want to be?"

"Yes, I realised when I woke up with you, I do love you, and yes, I think so."

"Well, we aren't yet, I need to ask you properly first, or you ask me, and you would be my husband not my wife, and I would be yours. We can do it properly later."

Sherlock starts grinning on hearing this, now that he has let these emotions out he cannot get enough, but then his face becomes serious again "One more question. Do you want children? You wanted a woman, she could have given you babies, but I can't do that."

"I hadn't actually decided about children, but if it is a choice of some woman and babies, or you and no babies, I choose you every time."

"What if we could have children though John? I know I can't physically carry your child, but we could adopt, or we could find a surrogate mother."

John is so surprised he is speechless. Sherlock Holmes is offering to raise a child with him. He never thought Sherlock would want to be anywhere near a baby. Eventually he finds his voice "You do know we don't have to decide everything right this minute don't you?"

Sherlock sounds earnest as he continues "I just don't want to disappoint you. Not that I'm saying these things just to make you happy, I really think that I would love a child, if it was ours, I told you I had been thinking. I just, I don't want us to go into this without knowing what we are getting into."

"Oh my god Sherlock! These must be the most thorough negotiations before sex anyone has ever had. I will have to think about this later, most of my blood isn't in my brain right now so it's not a good time to make this decision. If you would rather not have sex until we’ve decided that’s fine, but please tell me now because I feel like I'm going to burst lying here with you without you touching me. We either need to do something or I will go and have a shower to calm down. I don't mind which," he adds, "but we need to do one or the other right now." He finishes this with a reassuring kiss to Sherlock's forehead.

Sherlock smirks at the thought that he had made John so desperate, Sherlock is himself feeling a certain...urgency in that area, but as the results of his experiment with that had been so frightening he pushes the urge aside ruthlessly. He kisses John on the lips again, licking his bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside. He pushes John onto his back and pulls at his jogging bottoms until John lifts his hips, allowing Sherlock to pull them and his pants down, releasing his cock from its confinement. John reaches up with both hands and grasps the headboard to prevent himself from touching Sherlock.

Sherlock hesitates for a moment at the sight of the hard cock in front of him, it is thicker than his own and darker in colour, and glistens with wetness at the end. He reaches out and traces a finger along the underside from root to tip, causing John’s breath to hitch. He swipes the finger over the end, and is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to taste that wetness. He wants to investigate this, catalogue everything about this new side of John that he is now allowed to see and file it all away in John’s room in his mind palace, every physical fact, and to learn all of the things that John likes to be done to him. He gently licks the head, placing the memory of the bitter salty taste temporarily in the entrance hall of his mind palace, not wanting to take the time to find a proper place for it now.

John stiffens as he feels Sherlock lapping at his penis, he had not been expecting this, although it feels wonderful, he doesn't want to push his (almost) fiancé too far. "Sherlock, just your hand is fine for now, you don't have to. If you would prefer I can do it and you can watch." He murmurs between hitched breaths as his friend continues to place gentle kisses onto the head of his cock.

Sherlock moves back up his body and kisses his jaw and lips before whispering in his ear "I really don't know what I'm doing, but I would like to try, if that's ok." As he says this he closes his hand around John’s length and begins to move it up and down. John takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly and then instructs "Slightly harder, and a little slower." 

As Sherlock follows his directions Johns hips give an involuntary thrust "Oh God, Sherlock, that's so good. Please don't stop." 

Sherlock continues stroking him firmly. "Yes... good... love you. Yes, yes, yessss." John hisses between panting breaths, his hips continuing to thrust into his lover’s fist as Sherlock watches him curiously, and occasionally places butterfly kisses on his chest, cheeks and jaw. Eventually John can take no more and laces his fingers with Sherlock's to show his friend the way that he likes a slight twist on the upward strokes and firm brushes over the sensitive bundle of nerves just below the tip. He releases Sherlock again and the detective continues firmly doing as he was shown.

"Nearly... Coming... Oh God... Uummmmnhhh!" John cries out as he begins to pulse over his stomach, stripes of his seed covering himself as Sherlock continues to stroke him. Soon it is too much, feeling oversensitive he takes Sherlock's hand to stop him "Afterwards, it is uncomfortable to keep going." He explains, before pulling his friend close for a deep kiss. "Thank you."

Sherlock pulls away and reaches for some tissues, returning to clean John up. Before wiping it all away he leans over and licks a little at the come on John’s stomach, it has a stronger taste than the pre-ejaculate he has tasted before. "What are you doing?" John asks.

"Learning you." Sherlock murmurs, and then cleans him up, placing the soiled tissues on the floor he lies down, wrapping his arms around John, and tangling their legs together. John looks at the beautiful creature next to him, the oxytocin flowing through his veins reinforcing the feelings he had felt before, and making him wonder why he had ever resisted this. John can feel the evidence of Sherlock's arousal pressed against his hip, but decides that it is probably best to ignore it for now, so instead kisses his friend sweetly on the tip of his nose. "What do you want to do now?" He asks.

"Are you sleepy? In my research I found it is common for men to sleep after climax, although the pornography stars didn't seem to find it necessary."

John laughs, "Oh yes, I have lots in common with porn stars. That's me. We just need to think of my porn name." He continues to giggle as he squeezes Sherlock tight, earning him a wriggle from the detective as he playfully tries to escape. "So, not too disgusting then?"

"No, I don't think I would want to participate in that with anyone else.."

"Well I'm glad about that." John interrupts quietly.

".. but for some reason it doesn't seem so bad when it is you. If you want to sleep now, I don't mind, I have some work to do."

John frowned at that, "Work? We don't have a case, what do you need to do?"

"I need to catalogue what we just did, and all of last night in my mind palace, so that I never forget. I may have caused some damage in there before, when I was upset, so I also need to try to repair that."

John smiles fondly at his mad friend, "Ok, you do that while I doze, wake me when you are done and I’ll take you out for breakfast." He snuggles up close to Sherlock, aware that the man is only half there, and half retreated inside his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they are together, whatever could come next?? ;-)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, just a short one this time but I hope the content makes up for it :-)

Half an hour later Sherlock is done, the damage had not been so bad as he had thought, and he has created a new room for John, larger and more beautiful than any other room in his palace. It will take time to complete, in fact probably it never will be as every new thing he ever learns about or does with John will add to it, but it is good enough for now, and he doesn't want to make his love wait too long for breakfast. He gently shakes the doctor to wake him and smiles as sleepy eyes open. "Wakey wakey." He says, repeating the fond way that his mother would sometimes wake him when he was a child.  
\-----  
Soon afterwards they are downstairs at Speedy’s cafe, John has ordered a full English breakfast, and Sherlock is picking at the bacon roll that he chose. 

"So, are you my boyfriend now?" Sherlock asks shyly. 

"I thought we had agreed on fiancé." John replies around a mouthful of fried bread. 

"You haven't asked me properly yet." He retorts. 

John laughs, "Well give me a chance. Let me finish my breakfast first, boyfriend it is then." 

"And how do you feel about children?" 

"Oh, love, really, can't we just be us for a while before we worry about that?" 

Sherlock blushes at John casually calling him ‘love’, but doesn’t let it sidetrack him from his line of enquiry, "I don't mean right now, I just like to know what is happening." 

"Ok," John replies, stabbing a sausage with his fork "Well I think I would like kids one day, so shall we say that we are heading towards that, if we can figure out how to go about it, unless we change our minds?" 

Sherlock pauses half way through a mouthful of bacon and thinks, swallowing he says "Yes, that sounds ok to me." 

"Good, now, let’s eat and then I want to take you out for a walk and show you off." 

\----- 

They walk around the park hand in hand for nearly an hour, rubbing circles on each others hands with their thumbs. Neither of them able to keep the smiles off of their faces. Eventually they find themselves back at Baker Street, they walk up the stairs together, and as they close the door behind them John pushes Sherlock against it gently and starts to kiss the taller man. After snogging against the door for a few minutes John tugs his new boyfriend over to the fireplace, and sinks down to one knee in front of him, holding his hand. 

Just as he is about to speak Mrs Hudson appears in the doorway, calling out "Boys, I heard you come in.." She stops abruptly as she takes in the scene in front of her, her hands flying to her chest as she gasps in surprise. "Oh, boys, I'm so sorry loves, I'll just, yes, I'll just go away and leave you to it. Oh, I'm so happy for you. Sorry, sorry, I'm going." She bustles out of the room looking so full of excitement she might burst. 

The two men chuckle and then return to gazing at each other. "Will you, Sherlock Holmes, do me the honour of agreeing to marry me?" 

The taller man looks down with mock confusion "Well, I don't know John, this is all very sudden." 

"Get on with it you git." John complains affectionately. 

"You don't seem to have a ring for me." Sherlock teases. 

"Tosser. I'll get you a great big solitaire diamond one if you want, just get on with it, I don't want stay down here all day." 

Sherlock pulls John to his feet, kisses him chastely and says "It would be my honour. I never thought I would be doing this, never thought I would want to, but you, John Watson, seem to have done something to me." 

"Me too, until a few weeks ago I was convinced I was one hundred percent straight” Sherlock frowns at him so John amends, “okay 99 percent straight, but now, here we are. I couldn't be happier though." John adds to the end, wanting to be clear that he is serious about this. 

"So, what do we do now?" 

"I think we should go and tell Mrs Hudson the good news, before she has a heart attack with anticipation." John replies. 

"We have that champagne from the case last month, I think I left it in the fridge, should we take that with us?" 

"Definitely Love, that is why you are the smart one." 

"Obviously." 

"Does that make me the pretty one then?" John asks cheekily 

"No, that's me too. You can be the muscle." 

They go down the stairs, giggling like children and go into Mrs Hudson's flat hand in hand. She takes one look and comes over to hug and kiss them both.  
"Oh, dears, I can't believe it’s finally happened. Are you really getting married?" 

"Yes, we really are. Would you like to join us in celebrating." John says, holding up the champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, champagne or celebratory drink of your choice all round!!


	13. Chapter 13

Forty five minutes later the three of them have finished the bottle, and Mrs Hudson has fed them her homemade scones for lunch. She then shoos them upstairs, insisting that newly engaged young people shouldn't be spending all day with their landlady. Giving them a suggestive wink she tells them that she will be out all afternoon.  


John and Sherlock go back to their flat feeling slightly wobbly from the champagne. They stop halfway up to kiss, and stumble the rest of the way up trying to kiss as they go. They fall through the door and Sherlock bends down slightly to kiss and suck gently at John’s neck, John tipping his head back to give access. Just then they hear a man clearing his throat pointedly.

  
"I see that I have not been misinformed about recent events." Mycroft says, standing from the sofa where he had been awaiting their return.

  
The two men pull apart in shock, but then link hands and stand shoulder to shoulder to face Sherlock's brother. "Piss off, brother mine." Sherlock says angrily. "Why should you care what we do?"

  
"I just need a word with John, then I will leave."  


"No! Leave him alone. I know you think that ‘caring is not an advantage’, but I can tell you now that you are wrong. You are not going to make John leave."

  
"He never could." John reassures him, "Mycroft, what do you want? You could call like normal people, or come to visit when we are actually here."  


"I want to talk to you in private please."  


"No!" Sherlock begins, but John squeezes his hand to stop any further argument.

 

John growls at Mycroft, "Ok, fine. I'll talk to you and then you can leave, but if you want to have a civil conversation over tea and biscuits you’ll just have to come back another time without just barging in."  


"I would watch your tone if I were you Doctor Watson, I am not a man to be trifled with."  


John moves away from Sherlock to stand toe to toe with Mycroft, looking him straight in the eye he says "I. Am. Not. Scared. Of. You." punctuating each word with a prod to Mycroft's chest. Sherlock smirks at the outraged expression on his brother's face.  


Recovering his composure quickly Mycroft says to his brother "Sherlock, I really would prefer this conversation to be in private."  


"I'm sure you would." Sherlock says crossing his arms, leaning against the front door and glowering at him.  


Mycroft sighs and turns to John, who has by now taken a few steps back. "I see you are undertaking a romantic relationship with my brother."  


John nods, but Sherlock cuts in angrily "Have you bugged our flat again? You promised not to do that anymore."  


"No, brother, but the two of you were seem promenading around Regent's Park for an hour this morning holding hands and with the most ridiculous grins on your faces. It is really not much of a leap."  


Turning back to John he says "So I must ask exactly what you think you are doing?"  


"What are you saying?" John asks in a dangerous tone.  


"If I must be blunt, is this to do with financial considerations?"  


John is too shocked to answer, but Sherlock jumps in "For goodness sake, John has had full access to all of my money, including my trust fund for years, if he wanted to spend my money on..." He turned to look at John "What would you steal my money for?" John shrugs, Sherlock continues to Mycroft, who had rolled his eyes at the exchange "...on a lifetime supply of tea and awful jumpers, I would neither have noticed nor cared."  


"And Doctor Watson has access to the accounts because...?"  


"Because your brother seems pathologically incapable of paying bills, filling in a tax return, or checking on things like interest rates." John supplies, then continues "I find it very insulting, to both of us, for you to suggest that the only reason I would be in a relationship with your brother is for money. I suggest that you apologise to him immediately."  


"But not to you?"  


"I'll live." John replies coldly.  


Mycroft gives John an appraising look then turns to Sherlock "I apologise brother. It seems that your doctor is even more forgiving of your many character flaws than I had previously believed. Perhaps you have indeed found someone to put up with your execrable behaviour."  


John is not impressed with this apology, which seems to contain more insults than remorse. However Sherlock's face lights up with a genuine smile so this is obviously what passes for a heartfelt apology between the brothers. John moves to hold his fiancé's hand and Mycroft looks the two men up and down, obviously studying them for any signs of problems.  


Apparently satisfied by what he sees Mycroft says to Sherlock "Mummy is having a small gathering next weekend, I would be very grateful if you and your... partner could attend."  


"It's fiancé actually, but no, we’ll be busy." Sherlock replies.  


"Indeed?" Mycroft says coolly, the only sign of surprise being a single raised eyebrow. "Well in that case I must strongly urge you to attend. This is news that I insist you give to our parents in person. Mummy will be so glad to be able to tell Father that he can not use the wedding savings account to buy himself a yacht."  


"We'll be there." John replies quickly before Sherlock can make some excuse.  


"Hmmm, thank you Doctor Watson. I can see that there may be some benefits to this relationship after all." Mycroft collects his umbrella from next to the armchair where he had left it, and turns back to the two men.  


"I’ll take my leave now gentlemen. Doctor Watson, I sincerely apologise for our earlier misunderstanding, it seems I may have been a little too protective of my brother's virtue."  
Sherlock snorts at this comment, but John feels slightly appeased, it had all come from Mycroft trying to look out for Sherlock, a goal that they both share, so maybe they can put it behind them.  


John shakes Mycroft's hand firmly and says "My brother-in-law should call me John."  
Mycroft nods at them both with a small smile then Sherlock opens the door for him and he leaves.  


"Now, where were we?" John asks, before pushing the taller man against the door and resuming kissing him.  


\------  


An hour later the two men have moved to the sofa and are still snogging like teenagers. Other than a brief toilet break (necessitated by the champagne), they have not stopped touching since Mycroft left.  


The kisses are filled with depth and passion, but John has managed to restrain himself from touching Sherlock, keeping his hands to his lover's curls, neck and shoulders. He longs to explore further, but he has managed to hold back.   


Sherlock has touched John slightly more, clutching at his back and pushing his palms to John's chest.  


John is hard in his trousers, and a surreptitious check of Sherlock's groin shows he is in the same position. John understands that Sherlock is happy with kissing but anything else could be overwhelming and is determined not to try to push him, afraid that he may agree and hide his discomfort just to keep John happy. Sherlock may have gotten him off this morning, but he is not going to expect that all the time. However for John it is becoming harder to ignore his body's urges and he is considering breaking off to take care of his problem in the bathroom.   


John is saved from this decision by Sherlock's text alert. The phone is in the detective’s pocket so he pulls it out and checks the message whilst still gently kissing John. He makes a brief groan but then says "It's Lestrade, a high profile robbery, they are desperate for our help."  


The two men pull apart, as nice as the kissing is, they both know that the work comes first, and Sherlock also has his own reasons for wanting to see Lestrade. Five minutes later they are ready to leave. Fortunately their coats are both long enough to hide the remains of their erections, which are slowly softening. They are careful not to touch at all on the journey, wary of reigniting their arousal.

They arrive at the crime scene and walk straight under the police tape across the double doors to the ballroom. They can see Lestrade talking with Donovan, and gesturing towards Anderson and the other forensics officers at the far side of the massive room. Sherlock walks quickly over to Greg, and John goes to discuss with Anderson what has been found so far. As soon as Sherlock reaches the DI he says "Greg, I want to ask you to be my best man."

Greg started at him incredulous "What?"

"I want you to be my best man." Sherlock repeats, talking slower.

Donovan throws her hand up and declares "I can't deal with the Freak now, I have real work to do. She stalks over to some of the uniforms examining the window, muttering under her breath about amateurs talking nonsense.

Ignoring her outburst Greg says "What are you talking about? We’re trying to solve this burglary, you do realise we are missing several Picassos and a Monet here, I don't have time for games."

"Oh, really!” Sherlock huffs, he quickly scans the room, walks over to the wooden panelling on the wall and feels it carefully for bumps, he then pushes what looks like a knot in the wood and a panel opens revealing several canvases. "Insurance fraud!" He declares, Greg and a few nearby officers who noticed goggle at him in shock. Then he turns back to Greg "Now, to put this simply, I am getting married, will you be my best man?"

John reaches them just in time to hear this and says fondly "Tosser, I was going to ask him to be _my_ best man."

"You have lots of friends, who else am I going to ask?"

"I thought you'd ask Mycroft."

Sherlock stares at him in horror, "Take that back or there isn't going to be a wedding."

John laughs "Idiot. Ok, well you could ask Anderson."

Sherlock draws a deep breath and looks ready to start yelling when Greg holds up his hands and shouts. "Wait!" When the two men turn to look at him he says "You two are getting married? So we were right, you have been together all this time."

“No, I told you the other week at the pub that we weren’t together.” John says, while Sherlock simultaneously says "No Geoffrey, we only became boyfriends last night."

"So, you haven't been at it for months then?"

"Oh, does it only count from when we first had sex? This morning then." Sherlock says to clarify himself.

John puts his head in his hands in embarrassment and sighs.

"Right, so you only got together last night, and now you're getting married." Greg says, feeling somewhat out of his depth.

John quickly replies before Sherlock can confuse matters further, or embarrass him with any more revelations about their sex life "When I told Sherlock I love him, I kind of accidentally proposed. I told him he is what I am looking for in someone I want to marry. So, well, here we are."

Greg finally understands, it may not make much sense, but when had anything about Sherlock ever made sense anyway. "So now you both want me to be your best man."

"Yes!" The two men say in unison.

"Well, I'm not getting in the middle of that. Sherlock asked first, so, yes I will be your best man." Greg says with a grin. "Now, get out of here and let me clear up this mess," He gestures to the paintings in the hidden compartment, "and then I'm going to have to sort out who won the pool on you two finally getting it together. I'll text you and we can go to the pub tomorrow to celebrate. Now go." He says pushing the two men away.

Sherlock looks over his shoulder and shouts cheekily "You just want to take all the credit for finding those on your own."

"Yeah, yeah, bugger off." Greg replies affectionately, smiling after the two men who are now holding hands as they leave the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have now reached the part of the fic where I have gaps in the story that need to be filled before I can publish ay more. I'll try not to take too long before I update.


	14. Meet the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John visit Sherlock's parents to announce their engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I AM going to finish this, never fear :-)

The following week passes quickly. 

John decides that Mike Stamford deserves to be his best man, seeing as it was him who introduced him to Sherlock. He meets Mike in a pub and after a couple of pints and some general catching up John makes his announcement and asks Mike. He is delighted and gushes for a whole fifteen minutes about how he knew they were right for each other and how happy John has been looking recently, until John receives a text about a murder scene and has to make his excuses and leave.

Sherlock announces to Molly that he and John are getting married at the morgue while she has her hands inside a corpse. She manages admirably to continue her autopsy whilst questioning Sherlock about the details of the relationship, and hurriedly telling him that maybe she doesn’t need details when Sherlock starts describing John’s penis in great anatomical detail to get her professional opinion on average sizes.

Aside from these announcements they have had a relatively quiet week, a couple of simple cases, a few shifts at the surgery, and John manages to get Sherlock to accompany him to the supermarket with promises of letting him choose the biscuits.

~~--~~

The weekend comes and the couple are just arriving at the Holmes family house. Sherlock parks the hire car they have arrived in on the driveway and they climb out onto the gravel drive. 

John has only met "Mummy" and "Father" a few times before, they had seemed pleasant enough but he has never really had the chance to talk to them properly. He looks up at the house, a large country house set in well kept grounds that extend to a tree line in the distance. He swallows a lump down and looks over to Sherlock who gives him a reassuring smile in response. John takes a deep breath to calm himself, he is about to be introduced to Sherlock’s whole family as his fiancé and is frankly finding it all a bit nerve-wracking. A brief nod to Sherlock and they go to the front door side by side.

They have agreed to maintain their distance from each other until after the announcement, so they are not touching when Sherlock unlocks the door and they walk through the entrance hall to the living room. There are half a dozen people in the room, but John can't see Sherlock's parents anywhere. Mycroft is sitting in the corner looking bored, whilst being talked at by an older woman, Sherlock indicates her and says "Aunt Violet."

Sherlock drags John into the kitchen before they can be accosted by any of his relatives. Once there they find Mrs Holmes putting the finishing touches to dinner. 

She puts something into the oven and then comes over to pull her son into a hug, saying "Oh, Sherlock, I didn't believe Myc when he said you were coming. It's so nice to have you here." Sherlock stands as stiff as a board, but he does allow the hug without pulling away. He ignores her remarks and instead asks "Where is father?"

"He is in the cellar getting the wine." She replies, smoothing down Sherlock's hair and fussing with his shirt collar. 

She then turns to John and says "I am so sorry to hear about your Grandmother, such a shame, that it came on so suddenly like that, and you not even getting a chance to...." She trails off, having strayed into topics she had planned to avoid, then taking a deep breath she continues "We were going to send flowers, but Sherlock told us that you were asking for charity donations instead, so we made a donation to Cancer Research in her name. I do hope you got our card though, Dear."

Sherlock had started slowly moving towards the door when his mother had mentioned John's Grandmother. As she finishes speaking he realises that John is watching him so he says "I'll just go and help Father with the wine."

"I think your Father will be fine, you stay here. Now what is this about my Grandmother?" John replies in a tone that will brook no argument.

"Sherlock told us Dear, about how she died, and you had been so close. It sounds like it came as a bit of a shock, it’s no wonder that you needed some support. It's so good to see you looking so much happier now." Mrs Holmes explains.

"Oh, he did, did he?" John replies, not taking his eyes off of Sherlock, who is standing shiftily by the door. "Which Grandmother was this Sherlock? The one whose birthday party I am attending next month, scrap that, we are attending. Or the Grandmother who died 15 years ago?"

Sherlock just stands there, his eyes shifting from side to side, obviously trying to think of a way out of this. He had forgotten about the lie he had told his parents.

Mrs Holmes, having realised that her son had lied to her says "William Sherlock Holmes, you told me that she had died and that John was so depressed that you couldn't leave him. You told me that you could not even leave him to spend a few hours with your father and me at the theatre."

John glares at his fiancé, until Sherlock says in a defensive tone "Cats John, they wanted me to go to see Cats. My brain could never recover from that."

"So you used my Grandmother as an excuse."

"Yes. Well I could hardly tell them that my Grandmother had died could I?"

John’s voice raises a little, almost a shout but he is midful of where they are and trying to control himself, "Why did anyone's Grandmother have to die? You could have just gone with them like a grown up."

"Cats John, Cats!" Sherlock repeats, as if this explains everything.

John turns to Mrs Holmes and says "I am so sorry. I'll refund you the money that you donated."

"Don't be silly Dear, it's for a good cause after all, and besides, I hardly think it's your fault." She glares at her son, who is trying to edge his way out of the room without being noticed. "Well William, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Mycroft didn't go either." He mumbles.

"Yes, well Myc had that trouble with China to sort out."

"Oh, don't believe a word he says, he made that all up." Sherlock spits back at her.

"It was in the newspapers the next day. Don't try to deflect this onto him." Mrs Holmes says wearily.

"He's got you all fooled hasn't he, of course the newspapers would back up his alibi. They'll say anything he tells them to."

"Don't be so ridiculous Sherlock," John says, "Mycroft would not risk destabilising the World just to avoid a trip to the theatre. Now are you going to apologise to your mother?"

"And to John." Mrs Holmes adds.

Looking insincere Sherlock says "I'm very sorry, both of you."

John turning to Sherlock's mother says "and we would both be very happy to accompany you on your next theatre trip." With a flash of his eyes to Sherlock warning him that he had better not disagree.

"Oh, excellent. I know I can rely on you to make him turn up dear." She says to John, then adds, "Your father and I were thinking maybe Mama Mia next time."

Sherlock gasps and his eyes widen in horror, but John narrows his eyes at him threateningly so he says weakly "I'll look forward to it, I. I'll just go and find Father." He leaves the room quickly looking shaken with the terror of having to attend an ABBA musical.

Mrs Holmes gives John a wink and says "We can let him stew for a bit. I'll tell him later that I've changed my mind and would rather go to the Philharmonic."

John laughs and says "Wait until after dinner, he deserves it."

~~--~~

John spends the next half hour in the kitchen with Mrs Holmes, chatting about cases and his work at the surgery as he helps her with the dinner. Sherlock's father comes back with the wine, but he has not seen Sherlock, so when the dinner is ready John goes to find him. After searching the house he looks outside and eventually finds him looking miserable behind a tree. Sherlock sullenly follows John back to the house and sits next to him at the dinner table. John tries to chat with Sherlock's Aunts, Uncles and cousins, but the sulking black hole of depression next to him keeps dragging his attention away from everyone else.

John studies him, Sherlock has barely touched his food, just pushed it around the plate a little, his head is down and, Oh God, are his eyes glistening with tears? John leans close to him and says "Come on, we need to talk." Standing up, and tugging Sherlock to follow he says to the table "Please excuse us."

They go out to the garden and stand next to each other looking at the view behind the house. Sherlock quietly says "Do you still love me?"

John turns to him in shock, and quickly pulls the taller man into a hug. "Of course I do, idiot. It would take a lot more than that to make me stop loving you."

"Like what?" Sherlock asks sounding on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Love. I don't know, maybe if you really had killed my Grandmother to get out of a theatre trip. That's probably about it really. Just avoid murdering my relatives and I think we'll be fine."

"I would never do that John." Sherlock says with his eyes wide.

"I know that you git. So, it looks like you’re stuck with me." John says gently. He breaks the hug and returns to standing next to Sherlock, but this time they are shoulder to shoulder, and holding hands.

Sherlock smiles weakly. "You were so angry, and you want to torture me with that hateful musical and a birthday party."

"That's what we do isn't it? You act like an arse, and I tell you off."

"I just thought, it would be different now."

"Different how? You think I'm not going to call you on it if you behave badly."

"No! I thought... that if I behaved like that you would realise you had made a mistake and leave me."

John smiles widely. "Idiot, I love you. I do know you, after living with you all this time, it's not like I'm under any illusions what you are like. I'm really not expecting you to change. Is that why you have been so much nicer to me this past week?"

"Sort of, it was partly that, and partly, I just wanted to."

"I would like you to be nice to me, and considerate. I'm sure you will do your best Love. But I know full well you won't always succeed, and that's ok. I might get cross, we might argue, and I might even need to go out for a bit to calm down, but I will always come back. We will always work it out, as long as you want to."

Sherlock's smile is wider no, he confesses "I'm not good at this, being in a relationship, it's a bit scary."

"Git, just talk to me next time. Don't run off." Unable to stand torturing his friend anymore he adds "You know your Mum isn't really going to make you go to ABBA, she wants to go to the Philharmonic."

Sherlock sighs with relief. "I can cope with that. Are you really going to make me go to the birthday party?"

"Yes. You owe me, my Gran is very old, it kind of feels like tempting fate telling people she has died, so yes. It would be nice for you to meet her anyway." 

Sherlock pulls a face at the idea so John continues "It won't be that bad, you can play your violin, she would love that. I think she would even think it was fun if you deduce her and her friends, just, any sex stuff keep to yourself. I don't need to know that. Then you can slope off somewhere. There is a cemetery down the road you can go and look at, or you can go and nose around the village, or we can stick you in her spare room to read a book. I really don't expect you to stay through the whole thing, I'd only have to cope with the foul mood you’d be in afterwards."

Sherlock leans down and kisses John softly, he says "I love you John Watson, you always know how to make things better. Shall we go and tell everyone about our engagement?"

John smiles and nods, linking arms they go back inside.

They walk into the dining room, still arm in arm, their agreement to maintain their distance abandoned, and all of Sherlock's relatives turn to look at them. Mycroft stands and says loudly "I believe that my brother has an announcement to make." giving Sherlock a hard stare.

Sherlock is feeling nervous, he is now confident about his relationship with John following their talk, but he had never even had a boyfriend to bring home before, let alone a fiancé. He had never discussed his sexual orientation with his family, had never had one to discuss until recently. He is worried about shocking them, even though he had never known them to be homophobic.

Everyone is staring at them, but Sherlock seems to be stuck inside his head. John tugs on his arm gently and says "Sherlock." The younger man shakes his head slightly and his eyes come back into focus, he looks to John, who returns his gaze and gives a reassuring smile.

Sherlock takes a deep breath and quickly announces "Mother, Father, everyone, John and I are engaged, we will be getting married." He stops abruptly, having given this information he has no idea what else he should say.

Mummy saves him by coming over and pulling both of them into a hug and saying "I am so happy for you. I knew there was something different when you walked in earlier."

Sherlock's father comes over and shakes John by the hand saying "Congratulations." when Sherlock goes to do the same the man bypasses his hand and hugs him instead. He says "Well done Son, I think you have made a good choice there." turning to John he says "Welcome to the family."

Mycroft clears his throat and says I believe a toast may be in order, he raises his glass and says "To Sherlock and John, I am so glad my brother has finally found someone who can completely satisfy him." Mycroft's eyes light up maliciously as Sherlock grimaces and flushes slightly at the obvious double meaning, but no-one else seems to notice and they all raise their glasses and toast the happy couple. 

Once the toast is over Sherlock whispers to John "Can we go now?" but his mother hears and replies quietly "Sherlock, at least let John finish his dinner." Sherlock acquiesces and they return to their seats. 

Everyone else had cleared their plates whilst the pair had been in the garden, and the food is a little cold now, but John finishes every mouthful, and Sherlock manages half of his plate, all the while fielding questions about their relationship and the wedding. They are vague about the details of their relationship, it is all very new and not really something they want to share, and as yet there are no details to share about the wedding. Sherlock is becoming more and more embarrassed about all this discussion of his emotions and relationship so his mother asks if the two of them could help her with dessert in the kitchen.

Once there she turns to then and takes both of their hands "Thank you so much for coming to tell us, it means so much to know that you are happy after all these years. Thank you John for putting up with him, I know he is difficult, but he will be trying harder, won't you Sherlock?" She says looking her son in the eye.

"Yes Mummy, I will."

"Did John tell you about the Philharmonic?"

"Yes." Sherlock replies, whilst at the same time John says "Sorry, I couldn't keep it up anymore."

"That's Ok John, he was looking especially miserable before you went outside. Are you staying for dessert, or are you leaving now?"

Sherlock turns to John with pleading eyes so John says "I think we'll be going now Mrs Holmes, could you say goodbye to everyone for us please?"

She gives them a hug and says "Of course. 

With one more round of hugs she ushers then out of the back door so that they can avoid seeing anyone on the way to the car. When they round the side of the house however they spot Mycroft leaning against the hire car waiting for them.

Sherlock stalks towards him angrily and spits out "You were trying to embarrass me in there."

Mycroft looks a little abashed for a split second, before schooling his features back into impassivity. He then ignores his brother's outburst and says "I would just like to offer you both my sincere congratulations before you leave."

Sherlock glares at him, until John nudges him in the ribs and whispers "Please try to be civil."

"No, he deliberately embarrassed me."

Mycroft sighs and admits "Yes I did, I apologise, it was childish of me. Please forgive me."

Sherlock looks shocked at the admission, but then says "I accept your apology. You have to find me some interesting cases though."

"Fine," Mycroft says with an eye roll "I do actually have a few interesting things for you. I’ll send you the details. Goodbye Sherlock. John."

As Mycroft turns to go back into the house Sherlock calls after him "Did you get that all resolved, the thing the other month that stopped you going to the theatre with Mummy and Father?"

"Yes, the Russians are being much more cooperative now. Thank you." He replies smoothly and walks away.

Sherlock whispers to John "I told you he made it up, can't even keep his story straight."

"No! He wouldn't. He's messing with you. Isn't he?" John whispers back incredulous.  
Sherlock just gives him a smirk and gets into the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my new chapter, if so I would love it if you left me a comment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fun for the boys when they get home from Sherlock's parents.

John and Sherlock drop the car off at the hire company and then get a cab home. Once in the cab they take the opportunity to snog in the backseat while the embarrassed driver repeatedly clears his throat, which they purposely ignore.

By the time that they get back to the flat it is almost midnight. They kiss for a long moment in the doorway before Sherlock says quietly "Bed?"

John is a little surprised. In the last week he has woken every morning with the detective in his bed, but they have only gone to bed together a couple of times, with Sherlock preferring to stay up experimenting or playing his violin. After today he had expected a long violin session to help Sherlock to cope with the stress of seeing his family.

"Don't you want to play your violin?"

"No. I want you." Sherlock purrs, pulling John close and kissing him hard.

John can feel Sherlock's hard cock pushing against his stomach and gasps at the feeling. "What do you want?" He breathes.

"You." Sherlock answers, and then says briskly "Go and have a shower."

"You know some people could take offence at that." John grumbles affectionately, taking off his jumper and walking as quickly towards the bathroom as he can without breaking into an undignified run. He showers quickly and goes into his bedroom where he finds Sherlock lying on the bed in his pyjamas, still obviously aroused.

"What do you want Love?" He asks, dropping the towel and crawling onto the bed next to Sherlock.

"Lie down." Sherlock commands.

"Yes Sir." John snaps out giving a smart salute and then giggling. He rolls over to lie on his back, and Sherlock moves so that he is kneeling between John's legs. He leans down to lick the head of John's cock, and then parts his lips to take the tip inside. John gasps in surprise. After that first morning there had been lots of kissing, and a few more hand jobs, but Sherlock hadn't shown any further interest in using his mouth.  
John musters his self control and murmurs "You don't have to do that." 

Sherlock pulls off and replies "I want to." before bending down to take John into his mouth again, taking the first few inches this time. 

John groans at the sensation and Sherlock makes a pleased humming sound in response. The vibrations from Sherlock's deep voice feel wonderful, and the hot wetness around his prick is amazing. Sherlock takes him deeper, then tries to take his entire length, but has to pull off coughing and spluttering when John hits the back of his throat. "Sorry." Sherlock says miserably. 

"It's ok, not many people can manage all of it." John reassures, then laughs when he realises it sounds like he is boasting. "Just do what you can, and use your hand on the rest, it's fine." He smiles down at the man kneeling between his thighs.

Sherlock tries again, taking John as deep as he can comfortably manage and using his hand to stroke the base. He experiments with licking and bobbing his head, and then gives a suck pulling John deeper. John is panting, trying not to thrust into the warm heat, he has his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh as he restrains himself from grabbing onto the man's dark curls and pushing his head down. Every gasp, moan and cry that he makes teaching his lover the things that he likes, until he is writhing with pleasure. It is not long before he can feel his orgasm approaching. 

"Oh, God Sherlock. It's... so good. Oh... Oh. Please. Sher.. Oh. I'm going to..." He tries to pull Sherlock off before he comes, but has very little coordination left, and Sherlock seems determined to stay in place.

He shouts unintelligibly, as his orgasm overtakes him. He is pulsing into the warm mouth that is enveloping him, and Sherlock is doing his best to swallow as much as he can. 

Once he is spent John lays back limp on the bed and Sherlock pulls away, he has saliva and semen dribbling down his chin and his lips are swollen and red. John smiles up at his love as a wave of lethargy comes over him, he fights past his tiredness to reach for a tissue from the bedside table, he leans up and uses it to wipe Sherlock's face. 

"That was fantastic!" he says "Do you want me to do anything for you?"

Sherlock looks flustered "I. I think my body wants to, but, I don't. John it was horrible last time. I don't want that again."

"Ok. Are you sure? I should do something for you though, do you want a massage?"

Sherlock looks a little unsure but then says "No. I am worried that my body will take over if I give in and I won't be able to stop myself. Tea and a hug will be fine."

John laughs "Ok, I'll be in charge of tea then."

John stands, still fighting his tiredness, and tugs on his dressing gown when Sherlock says in a small voice "I'm sorry."

John frowns, "Are we still apologising about my Grannie, because that was hours ago."

"No, this." Sherlock says, sounding aggrieved that John had not understood and gesturing to himself. "This isn't normal is it? The way you have to tip toe around what you want, the way I can't be with you properly."

John leans down and kisses him tenderly. "When have we ever been normal? I think we've established that I don't want normal, I want you. Sex is not important in this. In any case, you are talking as if you haven't just given me an amazing blow job, I have no complaints. It does feel... weird, just taking and giving nothing back to you, but that is your choice, you get to choose what happens to you. Now, I have a job to do, remember? Official Post Coital Tea Maker." He kisses Sherlock again on the forehead and opens the door.

"I should get you a badge with your new job title, or we could include it on your next batch of business cards." Sherlock says with a weak chuckle.

"Git." John replies fondly and leaves to get the tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me everyone, we are getting towards the end now, another 4 chapters I think. :-)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a wedding to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but you will notice that I now have a total number of chapters for this, only two more to go after this one. I'll do my best to be a bit quicker with them :-)

The week after the visit to Sherlock’s family passes quickly. John has shifts at the surgery every day and Sherlock has had several small cases to keep him occupied.

Friday arrives and John drags himself up the stairs, looking forward to a weekend of nothing in particular, just rest and Sherlock. He walks into the flat to find Sherlock sitting on the floor surrounded by wedding magazines.

Sherlock looks up with eyes that are far too full of energy for John’s liking. John sighs, as excited as he is to be marrying Sherlock, he really doesn’t have the energy to think about it now.  
Sherlock sounds vaguely confused when he declares, “I’m researching our wedding, but these all seem to be aimed at women.”

John smiles and crouches on the floor next to him, mentally gathering himself. If Sherlock needs his help he won’t be found wanting.

John tries to calm him down, “I think a lot of women get very excited about that kind of thing, all the little details. It really isn’t that important though, we don’t need all this stuff. We can just have a small ceremony at the register office. Just a few people and then maybe go to Angelo’s afterwards for dinner.”

Sherlock stiffens his spine and his eyes go cool, “Yes, that would be most efficient.” He tries to hide the devastation inside, John obviously wants to get through this as quickly, quietly and painlessly as possible. He must want to try to hide the fact that he is marrying a man, hope that most of the people in his life won’t notice, or maybe it isn’t the fact he is a man that is the problem but Sherlock himself. Surely anyone would want to hide marrying someone like Sherlock from the world.

John takes in Sherlock’s change in demeanour with alarm. He has obviously said something horribly wrong, Sherlock is retreating into himself, hiding his pain. John lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gently asks, “What do you want Sherlock?”

Sherlock drops his eyes, but then has to blink back a tear when he catches sight of the pictures of country house weddings, flowers and happy couples in the magazines. He keeps his voice impassive to reply, “Nothing, that’s fine. A small, quiet wedding is good.”

John follows Sherlock’s gaze and makes a deduction of his own, “You want a big wedding.”

Sherlock tips his head slightly in concession, but is unwilling to give away his reasons, “It doesn’t matter, but it would mean we get to dance.”

John laughs, “Idiot, we can dance anytime we want, we don’t need a wedding for that.”

Sherlock nods but doesn’t speak, he feels tears prickling his eyes. He starts to gather the magazines up, not meeting John’s eyes. He climbs to his feet and dumps the magazines into the bin. He is horribly aware of John watching him, still unmoved from his position on the floor, he retreats to the kitchen to escape John’s gaze, switching the kettle on and busying himself with mugs and teabags. 

John appears in the doorway, standing silently, Sherlock tenses and John slides up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist.

John murmurs, “Hey. What’s going on in here?”

“Tea, obviously.” Sherlock retorts.

John presses a kiss to the back of Sherlock’s neck. “I shouldn’t have laughed at you.”

Sherlock shrugs.

“I forget sometimes, how new this whole thing is to you. It’s new for me too, but for you...”

“I never even imagined myself in a relationship before.”

“No, I know.” John kisses his neck again.

“I....” Sherlock trails off and sighs

John murmurs into his ear, “I love you, I want to be married to you, but I have never cared about weddings, at all. I guess it’s just not important to me. But this is about you too, what do you want?”

Sherlock takes a deep breath, “I want to show people that someone loves me. My whole life no-one ever.... not that I wanted them to, I was above all that, but I’m proud that you love me, and that I love you. I want everyone to see that we belong together.”

John squeezes Sherlock tight and kisses him again, “Fine, yes, big wedding it is, I would be proud to show you off too. It just seems like a lot of effort to go to, but if it makes you happy it’ll be worth it.”

Sherlock smiles and spins in his arms so they are face to face with Sherlock pressed back against the counter, he leans down for a real kiss, their lips meet gently, “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, just look at how happy you are, how can I say no to that? I have no clue how to organise a wedding though.”

Sherlock lights up, “I can deal with the details. I am worried though, do you think the aesthetics of our wedding will be ruined by there not being a dress there. I have worn drag before, for a case, and was told I make a very good looking woman.”

John gasps out, “Oh Sherlock!” then laughs until he can’t hold his head up anymore and has to rest his forehead on Sherlock’s chest. When he gets his breath back he says, “No it won't be ruined if there isn’t a wedding dress, I must admit since I realised how I feel about you the sight of you in those suits of yours has been most...arousing.” He catches Sherlock’s eye and turns serious for a moment, “Obviously, if you have something tell me, if you want to wear a dress, that’s fine, but we aren't doing it just to appease the wedding gods or whatever.”

Sherlock leans down and kisses him again, “No, I don’t particularly want to wear a dress, those magazines just made it seem so important.”

“Right, no dress then.” John sighs happily, “I really do love you you know.”

They gaze into each others eyes for a minute and then come together. They share soft kisses, their lips meeting again and again. Softly panting, the air between them warm and damp, they hold on tight as the kisses change. Lips smeared against jaws and necks, Sherlock’s collar is tugged aside and John sucks on Sherlock’s collar bone and finds Sherlock hard and pressing rhythmically against his stomach. He is just as hard himself against Sherlock’s thigh.

John whispers, “Sherlock, do you want....?”

Sherlock’s eyes are a little glazed, but sharpen quickly as John’s voice calls him back to himself. When he realises what he was doing he tries to pull away but he counter at his back prevents it. John moves back to give him space when he sees Sherlock’s eyes are filled with tears.

John cups Sherlock’s cheek, “What’s wrong Love?”

Sherlock is panting and looks devastated, “It feels so good, I don’t want to stop.”

“We don’t have to, we can do whatever you want.”

“I can’t John, I can’t , I want to, but I’m afraid.”

John can’t stand seeing Sherlock like this, he takes his hand and sits him in one of the kitchen chairs. Quickly fetching the magazines from the wastepaper bin he spreads them out on the table and switches the kettle back on to resume Sherlock’s tea making.

He feels a sting of disappointment at having to stop what they were doing, but he is determined not to let Sherlock know that. He can take care of himself later if necessary, anything to make the fear in Sherlock’s eyes go away.

“We’re going to drink tea, and I’ll make dinner while you talk me through your thoughts about our wedding. Then later when we have calmed down I’m going to take you to bed because we both need a good nights sleep.”

By the time dinner is ready Sherlock has already drawn up a list of venues to visit, made a preliminary guest list and chosen a tentative colour palette for the wedding. Maybe this won’t be as hard as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!!


	17. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, yes!!! I've finally finished. Sorry for the massive wait, but I have finally finished this doc. I will post the last chapter tomorrow so you don't have too long to wait.
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me :-)

Planning the wedding was exactly as hard as it seemed. Trying to find a venue to fit their dates, photographers letting them down and a last minute scrabble for a replacement, a bespoke suit that somehow was made 3 inches to long, and the interminable problem of arranging the seating plan. All of these things and more made the next few months into one of the most stressful periods of John's life. 

Aside from the wedding plans life has been good. All the normal things have continued, cases, work, crazy experiments in the kitchen and arguments about the shopping, just now it is all so much better.

They are closer than ever, sitting (OK, snuggling) on the sofa together at the end of a long day, going out for dinner and having no problem with anyone calling it a date, and sharing a bed, well, at least when Sherlock can be convinced to actually go to bed. 

John has been continuing his duties as “Post-coital Tea Maker” on a semi-regular basis, although with Sherlock suffering from an escalating libido that he is still afraid to indulge those occasions have tailed off a little. Not that John minds, he can take care of himself in that department for the most part. The only part that he dislikes is when Sherlock gets afraid, as he had the night of the wedding dress discussion, he tries not to take it personally, knows it is nothing to do with him, but he still hates that he is causing that. He is secretly considering suggesting a sex therapist to help Sherlock find some resolution either to be happy to forego sex or to find a way to enjoy it without fear, but has decided that he should wait until after the wedding to broach that subject.

Xxxx

On the morning of the wedding John wakes up alone, in Mike Stamford’s spare bedroom, as despite outwardly declaring it ridiculous nonsense Sherlock had taken a strangely superstitious interest in the tradition of not them not seeing each other before the wedding. Sherlock had remained at Baker Street, he had several experiments to finish up and make safe before they go away for their honeymoon.

It is the first morning waking up without Sherlock either in his bed or at least in the next room for such a long time that John feels a little off balance. He stretches and rubs his eyes then wanders out onto the landing to go and join Mike's family for breakfast. 

A few hours later and in amongst the chaos of Mike and his wife getting their three girls ready for the wedding John has managed to get enough time in the bathroom to shower and shave and is now standing in front of the small mirror on the wardrobe door attempting to tie a cravat. After watching the instruction video on YouTube for the fifth time he finally manages to get it looking presentable. He shoves the last few things into his overnight bag and takes a deep breath before going downstairs to the car.

He is eternally grateful that Mike and his wife decided to drive separately, with Joanne taking the girls with her to the ceremony. As lovely as Chloe, Mia and Hannah are, John isn’t sure if he could stand the constant noise and bickering that they generate any longer. He sits back in the passenger seat as Mike drives and tries to calm himself. It isn’t that he is worried about marrying Sherlock, he wants to be married, there is no doubt in his mind about that. It is the wedding that is making him nervous. So many people watching him, listening to him. And having to give a speech. He’s found talking to Sherlock about his feelings surprisingly easy, but in general he is more of a ‘stiff upper lip' man, revealing emotions to all and sundry isn’t really his thing. He closes his eyes and tries to keep calm, letting Mike handle the London traffic he has to fight through to make it out to the Surrey borders.

John is so far inside his own head that he doesn’t even notice when they pull up to the country house hotel that is to host their wedding ceremony and the subsequent reception.

“We’re here. Not having second thoughts are you?” Mike asks.

John shudders as he comes back to reality, unsure if he might have actually dozed off a little there, “No, no second thoughts. Just nervous is all.”

Mike smiles kindly, “Don’t worry, this part will all be over in a flash, then you have the rest of your lives together. I knew you two were destined to be together right from the start.”

John chuckles self consciously, “Yeah yeah, save it for the speech.”

Mike just smirks, “Oh, I am, that pretty much sums it up, making sure everyone knows I got you together. Oh, and of course I’ll be telling the story of when you ended up running through town stark naked after losing that bet in the third year.”

John splutters, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Mike grins, “I have photos.”

John sighs in resignation, but his lips twitch as he tries not to laugh.

“Now I’ve got your mind off of worrying about imaginary humiliation and onto the very real humiliation I’m going to put you through, let’s go get you wed.”

John nods and climbs out of the car, but stops half way through closing the door. “Hold on, your kids are going to be watching this speech, just how much of me is in this photographic proof.”

Mike giggles, “Lets just say I’ve learnt to use the pixelate button on Photoshop, but I only had to worry about a teeny tiny little bit of the picture.”

John is momentarily mollified, then realises what Mike was implying, “Oi, no denigrating my knob, it’s not that small.”

Mike just about manages to gasp out between gales of laughter “Don’t feel bad, it was very cold that night.” 

John disintegrates into giggles as well and grabs his bag from the boot. “Bastard, you’re just lucky I wasn’t around when you got married, the stories I could have told.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr ‘wees in the sink cos he can’t be arsed to go to the loos'.”

John gives him a playful shove, “That was One Time, Mr ‘fell asleep while knuckles deep in my girlfriend'.”

Mike turns to him wide eyed, “How did you know about that?”

John shrugs, “She came out of your room wearing just your shirt in a huff. Grumbled to me about it then begged me not to say anything. But if you’re showing my bits around then all bets are off.”

They both laugh, John cocks his head to indicate the main door of the house, “Shall we?”

“Yeah, come on. If you’re nervous just think how bad Sherlocks going to be. Can’t have you late or he’ll burst a blood vessel.”

They gather the last of their things from the car and go inside to check-in.

Xxx

Check-in is a quick process, and John’s bags are sent up to the Honeymoon Suite for later. The events manager insists on showing them around the banquet hall where the wedding reception will be held, beautifully decorated with flowers and ribbons, as far as John can tell everything is just as they had specified. She then shows them to a small side room to wait until the guests are seated and leaves them to go and see that everything is ready.

“You still nervous?” Mike asks.

John breathes deep, “Nah. Yeah, you know, uh, a bit. But I’ll be fine, just, need to get started. It’ll be better when I can see him, make sure he hasn’t stopped on the way to solve a murder or something.”

Mike chuckles, “He wouldn’t dare. I’ll text Greg and see where they are, OK?”

“Yeah, please. Bloody stupid idea not seeing each other before the wedding.”

Mike smiles to himself as he sends a brief text off, then frowns when after only a few seconds his phone begins to ring. He shoots a confused look at John and answers it.

“Greg? You alright?”  
John can’t hear the reply but he sees Mike’s confusion shift to amusement. 

“Ok, ok. We can be right there, don’t panic.” He hangs up and turns to John, “Sherlock’s worse than you, he’s got himself all worked up in the banquet hall and Greg’s struggling. You’re gonna have to calm him down before he runs off.”

John doesn’t hesitate, he leaves the side room and walks straight through reception, past several wedding guests without even stopping to acknowledge any of them, and into the banquet hall. He spots Sherlock instantly, striding restlessly around the room and scowling at the tables, and Greg sitting watching him with a look of despair on his face.

The door slams shut behind Mike and Sherlock turns instantly, looking ready to eviscerate whoever has dared to disturb him. His eyes fix on John and he squeaks in shock, then shouts “Now everything really is ruined. I’m not supposed to see you yet.”

John walks towards him slowly and carefully, “If you’re looking that miserable I think we have more important things to worry about than some stupid tradition. What’s wrong?”

Sherlock's bottom lip wobbles and his eyes glisten, before he has a chance to answer John reaches him and gathers him in his arms, stroking his back to sooth him. Greg and Mike take the opportunity to sneak out while they are both distracted.

“The napkins are the wrong shade of blue, and the fairy lights around the columns are warm white instead of cool white, and the flowers are wrong and, and….” his breath hitches, “it was all supposed to be perfect for you.” He sobs in John’s arms, burying his face in John’s hair.

John gives him a squeeze then pulls away to look around the room. “I didn’t even notice the napkins or the lights, or anything wrong at all, it’s beautiful. And it doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t care about those things. You know that don’t you? I just want to get married.”

Sherlock nods, but his lip still wobbles a little and his face is damp with tears.

“I’m nervous too you know, but it’ll be fine, because we’ll be together.”

Sherlock smiles weakly, “I missed you last night.”

John smiles back and takes his hand, “Me too. Let’s not do that again. Together from now on, ok?”

“Ok.”

They kiss gently, but after only a few seconds Greg pokes his head around the door and calls, “Everyone’s here, it’s go time lads.”

“Give us a second.” John calls back, then plucks one of the napkins off of a table and dabs at Sherlock's face to dry his tears.

“No! You can’t, that’s part of the table decoration.”  
John dabs him cheekily on the nose and glances quickly at the place card on the table, “I’m sure my Aunt Joy can cope without a napkin, I’ve got to make you presentable. There. Perfect.” He steps back and gives Sherlock a quick look up and down, “You look amazing, that suit, wow.”

Sherlock looks at John and then darts forward running his fingers through his hair, “John! You can’t get married like that, your hair is a disaster.”

John submits to Sherlock grooming him and giggles, “I wonder why that could be you madman, maybe someone cried into it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Sherlock smooths the final hairs into place then looks John over one more time, “Mike let you out like this did he?” He grabs John’s cravat and swiftly unties then expertly reties it and pats it into place.

John watches with amusement, then takes Sherlock's hand, “Feeling better?” When Sherlock nods he continues, “Right, time to get married.”  
Xxx  
Before he knows it John is standing in front of a room full of his friends and family being prompted to say his wedding vows.

“I, John Hamish Watson, take you William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be my wedded husband.” He smiles nervously and continues with the vows he has written, “Before I met you I never could have imagined the life we would share, I can’t wait to see what comes next.” He knows it isn’t the most revealing thing he could have said, but he means every word, and looking at Sherlock he seems supremely pleased to hear the words.

Sherlock wants to wrap John up in his arms, but he has to get through this first so at the prompting of the registrar he says his own vows, “I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take you John Hamish Watson, to be my wedded husband. I never knew what love was before you, now I do, and I like it very much so, please, keep loving me as much as I love you for the rest of our lives.”

John laughs even as tears fill his eyes, he darts forward and gives Sherlock a peck on the lips, earning him a small cheer from someone in the congregation, and a mock disapproving look from the registrar, although her lips quirk into a small smile.

“I think we had better get on with things.” She says cheerfully, “Do you have the rings?”

Mike and Greg step forward with the rings and before they know it everything is done and the registrar announces “Congratulations, I now declare you husband and husband, you may kiss your groom.”

They are both so eager that the kiss starts off awkwardly, crashing together too hard and the angle is all wrong, but Sherlock wraps his arms around John, and John takes Sherlock’s head in his hands and they very soon are coordinated. The room around them seems to vanish and the kiss deepens, they cling to each other desperately, until Greg clears his throat very pointedly right next to them and they reluctantly break apart.

They are both a little disheveled and flushed when they look around and see everyone on their feet applauding. Mycroft is giving them a warm, if slightly awkward looking, smile. Sherlock's mother is passing a tissue to a very happy looking but wet eyed Mrs Hudson, and Harry is giving John what she probably thinks is a discrete thumbs up.

They hug again briefly before going with the registrar to sign the wedding certificates and make everything official.

Xxx

As everyone takes their seats for the wedding breakfast John nudges Sherlock and whispers in his ear, “I see no one is running screaming from the horror of the wrong colour napkins.”

Sherlock purses his lips in amusement and whispers back, “I may have been a bit overwrought, they are the wrong colour though, they should have been navy, these are definitely cobalt.”

John chuckles and nudges him again playfully, murmuring under his breath, “We haven’t all memorised the whole bloody colour chart you know.”

Sherlock is prevented from answering by a waiter coming to serve the wine, and in short order the food for the top table arrives, and the meal is in full swing.

They eat and drink and then it is time for the speeches. Much to the relief of both of their fathers they decided to forego ‘Father of the Groom' speeches, deciding that two Best Men and two Grooms was quite enough.

Greg tries to keep his speech lighthearted, focusing on Sherlock’s almost magnetic attraction to falling in the Thames ever since they had met and how glad he is that John is in his life now to be another pair of hands to pull him out again. This, and the accompanying photos bring gales of laughter to the room. 

Then Mike takes his turn, and as promised he makes absolutely certain that everyone knows who introduced John and Sherlock, and takes plenty of time over tall tales of John's youth, by the time he has concluded his speech John is blushing furiously but also so happy that he feels ready to explode. He looks around at all of the people there for him and can hardly believe it, then stands to take his turn.

“I..well first of all I have to thank Mike and Greg for being an amazing pair of Best Men, they’ve both been invaluable in putting this all together. Also thank you to all of you for coming to support us on such an important day.

I don’t want to keep you all for too long, I can see some of you are eager to get to the bar.” This comment raises a cheer from the table of John’s old rugby mates, and from his old army friends.

“I just want to say, thank you Sherlock, it wasn’t the most conventional start to a relationship but God I’m glad we got there in the end, and as I said in my vows, I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you. So, um, that’s about it.” He pulls Sherlock to his feet and kisses him, then sits to allow Sherlock to take his turn.

“The wedding book said I should do thank yous first, so thank you all for coming, and for being our friends. I never used to have friends, but now, thanks to John I do, and that is just one of the ways he has improved my life. I cannot imagine my life without him, it used to be simply trying to get through each day without self destructing, but now I want every day to last as long as possible so that I can have more time with the man I love. Thank you for marrying me.” Sherlock smiles down at John seated next to him, then turns back to the guests, “I believe the bar is open now, so if you could all go away that would be great, I want to kiss my husband.” Sherlock sits down accompanied by a rumble of laughter from the room and proceeds to do exactly that as the guests gradually make their way out to the bar.

After much kissing and the hotel staff clearing tables around them the room is transformed into a proper ball room. A single violinist has set up at the end of the room, next to the decks, lights and speakers for the DJ who will be taking over after the first few songs.

Sherlock looks around when he hears the violin being tuned and smiles, he has been looking forward to this for weeks, and having given John lessons is confident that they should be able to make their first dance memorable.

People begin filtering back into the room and Sherlock pulls John to the dance floor, the music starts and they waltz together staring into each others eyes, barely noticing when other couples join them.  
After the first few songs have played John says “We should mingle.” Sherlock pulls an unimpressed face so John amends, “I should mingle, you can talk to your family.” Sherlock pouts but John giggles and pushes him towards his parents as they pass by, then gives him a wave and goes to talk to Molly and her new boyfriend.

John flits from group to group while Sherlock manages to escape his parents and settles on talking to Mycroft leaning against the bar and tracking John’s every movement.

As soon as Sherlock sees John talking to Greg he leaves Mycroft at the bar and comes over. "Lestrade, I need to talk to you." He declares. 

"It's Greg you pillock." Greg groans in exasperation. "I'm your Best Man, you should know my first name." 

"Yes, yes. Anyway. There is a wedding tradition, Mike is a married man so can't take part, so as you are now single again it falls to you. It’s traditional for the best man to bed one of the bridesmaids, so I hope you will not break the tradition and ruin our wedding." 

Greg looks at him in shock, then recovers slightly says "You don't have any bridesmaids, or a bride for that matter." 

"Obviously adjustments need to be made. Bridesmaids are often siblings of the newly married couple, so by my estimates that gives you the choice of an alcoholic lesbian," John clears his throat and glares at his new husband "who admittedly is doing rather well to still be sober this long after the bar opened." Sherlock amends. "Or my brother, who I must admit although an insufferable annoying git, is a rather powerful and rich man who from all evidence seems to have his cake addiction under control, I suspect he has been attending meetings." 

Just then Mycroft appears with a glass of champagne in one hand and a pint of beer in the other. He hands the beer to Greg saying "Gregory." and smiling slightly. 

Sherlock grabs John’s arm and drags him away, calling over his shoulder "Remember what I said Lestrade, I believe he may have a box at Wembley too." 

"What was that about?" John hisses once they are at a safe distance, "Did your brother ask you to say that?" 

"No, it was my idea, wouldn't it be convenient if they got married too?" Sherlock says pleased with himself. 

"What do you mean convenient?" John asks suspiciously. 

"If I need a case, I could just go to their house and make them give me one, instead of having to traipse all over town to find them both. Or I could call Mycroft and if he didn't have anything for me he could make Lestrade give me a case. So much easier." 

"How did you persuade your brother to get Greg a drink?" 

"I just suggested that it would be a nice gesture to thank him for looking after his little brother on such an important day. He really took very little convincing, but then again our Detective Inspector is a very attractive man." 

"Greg's not gay though." John says looking back at the two men, they are deep in conversation, and standing slightly closer than you would expect. As he watches Mycroft touches Greg's forearm and Greg visible swallows whilst not breaking his gaze from Mycroft's face. 

"No, he’s bisexual.” Sherlock replies, "I walked in on him having a snog with a male police officer once, before he married his wife. A bit like you really." He then pinches his husband's bum and gives him a cheeky wink, causing John to giggle happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spot a typo please let me know, I think I've got them all all, but you know how it is. I'm sure they breed when I'm not looking.


	18. Wedding Night

Sherlock tires of socialising only an hour after the first dance, but John manages to persuade him to dance with him for a further 45 minutes before they try to sneak away upstairs.

Unfortunately they are foiled by a very pink faced and flustered looking Greg who spots them and announces to the room that they are leaving and they have to spend nearly half an hour saying goodbye to everyone and thanking them for coming. 

When Mrs Hudson reaches the front of the line she looks back at the loose queue of people behind her, hugs them tight and whispers, “I’m so happy for you both. I'll distract them, you boys go and have fun.” Then gives them the filthiest wink John has ever seen. She then steps back and stumbles into two of John’s cousins who were behind her, mumbling about feeling a bit faint. In the ensuing fuss of people fetching a chair, a glass of water and generally checking that this frail old woman is ok Sherlock and John are momentarily forgotten. 

They look at each other, link hands and creep out muffling their giggles and breaking into a run as soon as they are safely out of the room.

They burst into their hotel suite, almost incandescent in their happiness. They are kissing passionately, and Sherlock is moving his hands over John’s body, hungry to feel him, however John is keeping his hands still, just grasping his new husband's arms. Sherlock breaks the kiss to whisper, "You can touch, if you want, I am yours now after all." 

John pulls away and turns serious "Just because we’re married now, it doesn't mean that I have the right to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. I definitely don't have the right to demand anything sexual of you, please don't think that." 

Sherlock steals another kiss, "No, I didn't mean that, just, I want you to touch me. I trust you, and I have a surprise for you, to celebrate our marriage." 

"What is it Love?" 

"I want you to be inside me tonight, I have been thinking about it and joining our bodies is the best way to show you how much I love you." 

John pulls away in shock, and moves to the far side of their hotel suite. “No! We aren't doing that. I don't want to hurt you.” 

"I want to." Sherlock replies, moving slowly towards John as if he is a frightened animal. 

"No! Either you will not find it arousing, in which case it would probably just be painful and unpleasant for you; or it could cause you to have an orgasm and you don't want that. I don't want to make you feel petrified on our wedding night." 

"John, please join me." Sherlock says sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the empty space next to him. 

John goes and sits next to him. 

"I have been giving this a lot of thought. I would like to try having an orgasm with you, I think that if you're there I will feel safe, even if my mind shuts down again." 

"Well then, I can touch you, or I could try giving you a blow job if you want, I can't promise to be very good at it, but I would do my best. Those would be much less intense for you than what you are suggesting." 

"Please let me do this for you, I know what I’m saying. I trust you, I know that if it’s too much for me you would stop. Please." He leans over and kisses John sweetly.   
"I don't have any of the things we would need." John says, beginning to relent under the onslaught of Sherlock's kisses and his own arousal. 

"I do,.. lube... and... condoms... in my bag." Sherlock whispers, punctuated with kisses to Johns jaw and neck. 

How can John resist anymore? He has been fantasising about this since before they got together, and this obviously isn't a spur of the moment decision on Sherlock's part. 

They tumble back onto the bed, lying together in their suits, kissing and scrabbling at each others buttons, until they both have their shirts open, Sherlock lying on his back with John astride his hips leaning down to claim his lips, John's hands tangle in his husband’s curls that are now standing out at all angles. 

"Stop John, I, I want to have a shower first, I want to be clean for you before we do it." 

"Maybe we should shower together." John suggests, leaning down to lick Sherlock's nipple. 

"Aaah!" Sherlock shouts, as the sensation from his nipple shoots directly to his already hard cock, causing it to twitch. Pushing John up gently he says "I don't think that's a good idea, unless you want me to come before we have even started. I'll go first, and you can go in afterwards while I get everything ready." 

Sherlock goes into the ensuite, and John waits virtually vibrating with excitement, but also apprehensive about what they are about to do. Sherlock takes his time in the bathroom, wanting to make sure he is extra clean for his lover, he eventually emerges with a towel around his waist, his cheeks and chest flushed from the heat, and his curls hanging limp and damp. The sight is almost too much for John, he has trouble stopping himself from dragging Sherlock onto the bed instantly, but he restrains himself and takes his turn in the shower while Sherlock finds the supplies for them to carry out his plan. 

When John comes back into the bedroom he finds Sherlock in the bed, covers pulled up to his chin, and looking very nervous. John is only wearing a towel, with his erection tenting the front of it, but at the sight of Sherlock looking so scared his arousal flags a little. He kneels on the bed next to Sherlock and says "We don't have to if you've changed your mind, love. I don't mind. We can just cuddle if you want." 

"No! I haven't changed my mind, I'm just nervous. Please come here, I always feel better when you are with me." 

John drops the towel and slips under the covers, finding that Sherlock is also naked. "Would you prefer the lights lower love." He asks. 

Sherlock nods, maybe this would be less embarrassing if the lights weren't so bright. John gets out of the bed again and turns on a side lamp on the desk at the far side of the room, and then turns the overhead light off. Sherlock instantly feels better, this is much more intimate, when John comes back it feels more like their own private world, just for the two of them. They kiss languidly for several minutes, gradually pushing the sheets down the bed until they are both uncovered. This is the first time John has seen Sherlock totally naked since the night he had helped him to clean up after his first orgasm, and he takes a moment to stare hungrily at his lover's body. Sherlock seems a little shy until John gasps out "Gorgeous." and places kisses all over his chest, causing the younger man to relax and blush slightly. 

John moves to kneel between Sherlock's legs, sitting back on his heels. Both men are so hard that it is almost painful now, and John has to resist the urge to just lean down and rut against the taller man to completion right then. He gently lifts Sherlock's legs, bending his knees and parting them breathing hard and whispers "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, please John, please." Sherlock gasps, desperate for it to begin. 

John reaches over and gets the lube from the bedside table, he applies some to his fingers and circles Sherlock's entrance gently, leaning up to kiss his husband's lips as he gently pushes one finger inside. Sherlock gasps at the unfamiliar feeling, but then smiles shyly at John to show that he is ok. 

John slowly moves his finger in and out, carefully avoiding Sherlock's prostate to avoid over stimulating him too soon. He then removes his finger, and Sherlock huffs at the loss, before John pushes in again with two. John continues to prepare his lover carefully, using his other hand to rub his hips and thighs comfortingly, and occasionally leaning up kiss him on the lips. 

"How is it love?" John asks between ragged breaths, he is panting hard with arousal now. 

"It's good, I, please hurry John, I'm not sure what is happening, but it feels good." 

John is desperate to push inside of the man in front of him, but he ignores this urge, terrified of hurting his friend by moving too quickly. Instead he adds a third finger, and shortly afterwards a fourth, at this Sherlock sucks in a deep breath in pain and John stops moving.   
"Do you want to stop?" He asks. 

Sherlock is holding his breath, but shakes his head, letting the breath out slowly he says, "Just give me a second." When his breathing has returned to normal he gives a brief nod and John pumps his fingers gently a few times, then removes them completely. 

Sherlock feels empty all of a sudden, "Please, I need you." He begs, as John swiftly opens the condom packaging and rolls it on. He adds lube and then pushes in slowly, watching Sherlock carefully to make sure that he is ok. 

It takes a while, the feeling is more intense than Sherlock expected, and the pain nearly makes him change his mind, but looking up at John trying so hard to be careful with him, makes him decide to keep going. He carefully hides his discomfort and smiles at his new husband in the dim light, clasping his hand tight. He made this decision and he won’t back out now, anyway, this feeling is just temporary, he had finally found some useful instructions online for this and it assured him that once things got going this was going to feel much better.

Once John is fully seated he kisses Sherlock gently "Ok?" 

Sherlock nods then kisses John again, slow and sweet to give himself time to adjust. The extra time, and the way kissing John makes him relax, soon has the pain vanish and his arousal to come back stronger than ever. John’s stomach is rubbing against his engorged cock making his hips hitch in an unsteady rhythm. Eventually he can’t take it anymore, ignoring the thread of fear in the back of his mind about losing himself to orgasm he lets his body take over, safe in the knowledge that John is here to protect him. "Please, I need more." 

As soon as he hears this John starts to move, slowly at first, but the build up has been so long that he can't hold back any more and begins to thrust harder and faster, holding Sherlock's hips tightly and rubbing against his prostate on every thrust. 

"Oh, God.. John..., oh.. Oh!" He babbles, before losing all power of speech and just grunting out his breaths.   
John is completely overcome, it is so hot and tight, so good, he isn't going to last long "Oh God Sherlock, you're so good, I love you." He cries, then reaches between them to take Sherlock's cock in hand. Sherlock gasps deeply in response and holds his breath, his eyes widening "Let go love, I've got you." John whispers. Sherlock lets out the breath with a scream as he comes hard, semen covering both of their stomachs. The sight of Sherlock losing control, and the way that he clenches his muscles around him causes John to lose control in turn and come with Sherlock's name on his lips, pulsing his release deep inside of his lover. 

John looks down at the man spread on the bed below him, Sherlock looks totally wrecked, and he seems to have retreated inside his head. John quickly kisses him, cups his cheek with one hand, and whispers in his ear "Love? I'm right here. Sherlock?" 

Sherlock takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly a few times, before smiling widely and focusing on John.   
"You were there! It was too good, and then that was all there was, and I got lost, but you were there, and you helped me find my way back, and it was safe." He was speaking so fast John had trouble keeping up. 

"I'm not sure I quite understand love, but are you saying you liked that?" 

"Oh yes!" He says dreamily, then snaps back into focus and says rapidly "No more talking, I need to catalogue this." 

John shakes his head and rolls his eyes fondly at the madman lying underneath him. He pulls out carefully, disposes of the condom, wipes the mess up with a tissue and curls up next to his new husband, who is currently deep inside his mind palace, hands twitching gently and a massive smile on his face. John pulls the covers over them both and cuddles in tighter, within moments he is drifting to sleep sated and content that he can spend the rest of his life with this amazing man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who had been so patient waiting for the end of this story. I hope that you think it was worth the wait.
> 
> As I think I said in one of my earlier notes, this was actually one of the very first stories that I wrote, and this last chapter was for the most part written well over a year ago, but unfortunately filling in the gaps to get here took me much longer than I imagined it would. This has turned out to be my longest fic to date, and I am incredibly proud of myself for finishing it. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading :-)

**Author's Note:**

> I am DaisyFairy1 on Tumblr.
> 
> I LOVE comments!!! (Hint hint)


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